The Road Home
by Yva J
Summary: Post 'Last Battle'. Susan is 27, and although she may have forgotten about Aslan and Narnia Aslan and Narnia has not forgotten about her. Main characters Susan and Tumnus!
1. The Mysterious Doctor

_a/n: This story is a multichapter story that, depending on feedback will determine whether or not it gets new chapters added. Unlike 'Somewhere beneath the Narnian Moon', that will be posted to completion no matter what, this story is a work in progress and I need to know if the idea is even worth completing. If no one says anything, then I'll assume that the idea is dry, and no one is interested. No, it's not a guilt trip, but if I don't feel any motivation to work on it, then I most likely won't._

_This, unlike other stories I have written does not focus primarily on the romance elements (although there may be some present in this story). It does, instead, has a premise of a love that goes much deeper than the romantic aspects of things. This story's primary focus is not on the Tumnus / Lucy element, instead, it focuses on the sisterly bond between Susan and Lucy. It also deals with a number of flashbacks, which will be noted in later chapters._

_There are no incest or slash elements in this story, but there are some rather harsh scenarios that play out as well as adult language that might come up every now and again, thus being on the safe side, this story is getting a firm 'T' rating._

_Hope you enjoy and as always, reviews are love._

_**Edit March 5, 2008...**_

_**I have been getting a few rude anonymous reviewers complaining here about the format, style and wording of this story. I will say it straight up, if you don't like detail in stories, you don't like an occasional cuss word, or are not fond of the premise here, tough. You don't like it, don't read it. I will not be nagged about the content of a story that is two years old. **_

_**I am no longer writing 'Narnia' stories so it is no skin off my nose if you read it; like it or hate it. Rude and pointless reviews will either be deleted or reported. So before you start reading this, decide if you really want to mess with a grouchy 30-something-year-old broad who has been writing fan fiction probably longer than some of you have even been alive.**_

_**This is blunt and to the point, but the comments that I have been getting about this story have finally made me decide to comment because it's bordering on harassment, and that is something I will not put up with. If you want something lighter, go to K or K-plus rated stories. This is a T-rated story and that is what it is going to stay.**_

_**Good day! **_

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**The Road Home**

By: Yva J.

**Prologue: The Mysterious Doctor**

The walls of her room were white; no pictures, no mementos, nothing. The thick stone of it seemed to drift away into nothingness, leaving only what looked to be square shaped indentures in the wall. Outside the sign read 'Pleasantville Psychiatric Hospital'. She remembered when she had been brought here, and how the large blue and white sign in front of the building had defined what would represent an uncertain future.

Roughly, she was shoved out of a van and led inside the building, her eyes scanning the complex fearfully, but her gaze remained empty and lifeless. She had been jarred back to reality by the stony faced woman who met her at the door.

"Ah, I see our little psychopath has made it safely here," the woman had said mockingly, her voice cold and unfeeling. This was to mark the beginning of her experiences in this place. The times would be laced with abuse and ill-treatment.

Everyone seemed to regard her as though she was a criminal, but in fact, she was not. Instead she was a grieving woman who's depression and sadness could not be rubbed away. Sadly, the only human contact she really had was the cold woman with the pale skin and gray eyes. Her name was Delores Davenport, but her nickname amongst the patients in this place was 'Dr. Killjoy' because of the harsh and inhumane methods she used. This had been her means to 'help' her patients and with the assistance of two orderlies, physical pain had been the means in which to 'reach' them. Yet, instead of reaching them, she seemed only to succeed in wearing them down.

The young woman remembered the six agonizing months where no one stopped to exchange a kind word with her or try to help her. It was only after nearly being killed at the hand of this doctor and her two goons, did the establishment decide to take some sort of action. The physical torment and beatings had left a drastic impact on her, her body was covered with bruises and her weight had gone down drastically since arriving. She felt as though she was a hostage or captive in this place and she wanted out. Yet, all this time, she asked herself where would she go and what she would do if she did get out.

Even in sleep, her dreams were haunted by the unfeeling doctor with the steel gray eyes and icy personality. She shuddered every time she thought of this woman, sometimes waking from her dreams with tears streaming down her face and trembling violently. All that she could think of was how this all reminded her of an experience from long ago. On top of that, she heard rumors that Davenport had been removed from her case and that it would only be a matter of time before she would find out who specifically would be treating her.

It was an absolutely horrid situation, more horrible than anything that she had ever experienced. Alone and isolated, the shine in her eyes was gone, her faith dissipating like a snowball on a summer's day. Yet here she sat, trapped in a cold, cruel room, and nowhere in this place could she even begin to find peace.

She lowered her head and silently cried, no sound emerging from her instead, her body trembled as grief overwhelmed her. She had long since learned not to show emotions in this place. It would have been too hard for her to do this especially today, the anniversary of her family having died in that terrible train wreck.

I had once been a queen, she thought desperately, but I have forgotten and now I'm being punished for it. Above the doorway, a motion detector was placed, and she knew that no matter what she said or did, her movements were being monitored all day and night. She had trained herself to keep her feelings and emotions at bay so as to not have these strangers see inside of her heart.

The bed was hard, the mattress covered with a simple sheet and atop that, she sat lost and alone. She kept her eyes closed, a vacant expression shadowing her face. One could also see that her skin was pale, almost matching the walls that imprisoned her. Her clothing was simple, she wore a matching pair of white pants as well as a long sleeved t-shirt and cardigan. On her feet, she wore white tennis shoes. Everything was white, lifeless, colorless and this made her feel all the more cold and isolated inside.

On the far corner of the room, a small, door-less cabinet was placed, the edges and corners covered with foam rubber to keep the occupants from bringing undue harm to themselves. Inside were various articles of clothing folded and laying at the base.

Instead of doing anything that would catch the attention of those who kept her prisoner in this place, she sat motionless day after day on the bed and did nothing. She rarely ate or spoke to anyone. The only word she ever uttered was a single name…Aslan. But she provided those who monitored her no justification or explanation for having said that name at all. Instead, she took a vow of silence and said not a word.

She was twenty-seven years old, a virtual shadow of the glories that she had once been. She was not crazy, she knew that much, but society had long since made that decision for her since she had no family left. She could very well have gone crazy after the train accident, but she didn't, she simply lost her lust for life, sank into depression, and ended up in this desolate place.

Her hair, since being forced into this place had been cropped short in a pageboy cut, but the uneven hair made her look the part of a vagabond. As a girl she had thrived on looking good and having boys take notice of her, but now, she felt ugly and disgraceful. It was with this thought in mind that she was grateful there was no mirror in her room.

On one corner of the room was a window, with criss-crossed metal fencing covering it. It allowed some light from outside to drift into the room, but nothing more. The door on the other end had a small window, but it was hard to make out what was happening on the other side of it. The window itself was a concave like substance that made everything look bloated and undefined. After about two days of staring at it, she gave up. She knew that she would not see anything going on outside, and tried to forget about it.

She was cut off in this place, completely cut off from the rest of the world.

Seconds passed and she could hear the sounds of keys turning in the lock and a man who appeared to be in his early thirties entering the room. "Hello, Miss Pevensie, how are we doing this afternoon?" He asked softly.

We? She thought bitterly. I don't know about you, Mister, but I feel like shit. Instead of saying so, she shrugged her shoulders and took in his appearance.

The man was not too terribly tall, perhaps a few centimeters shorter than she if she were to actually stand straight up. The first thing she noticed about him once he had closed the door was that he walked with a slight limp. It was not overtly obvious, but having been stranded in this place, she tended to take in details.

His curly dark blonde hair was short and came only inches away from brushing the collar of the white lab coat that he wore over a gray colored suit. Two things struck her almost simultaneously, his blue eyes and the brownish red colored tie that was peeking out from the folds of his jacket and lab coat. These two aspects were probably the first bright and cheerful colors she had seen since coming here. She stared into his eyes for a moment until he moved closer to her and her gaze diverted. As he limped towards her, a memory flashed through her mind, but instead of thinking about it, she swallowed and returned her focus to the tie. This wonderful color seemed to remind her of the dark brownish red leaves on a crisp autumn day.

As he managed to reach her without any mishaps he sat down next to her on the bed. He did this because the bed was the only place in the room where one could sit down. The chairs had been taken out of the room because of the sharp corners, otherwise he would have seated himself across from her. The file he carried, he cast idly at the foot of the bed. She watched as he returned his focus to her all the while smiling gently. This was a first for her, usually people did not smile at all, instead they regarded her with disdain.

Hesitantly, she reached over and lightly touched the spot where the tie was gathered against his neck and his uniquely combed beard suddenly tickled her fingers and she drew back for a moment. The color from the tie seemed to almost beckon her to reach for it again, and after a few moments, she did.

The gentle smile remained on his face and he looked down at the broken woman who sat cross-legged on the bed. Instead of drawing away from her, he reached under the folds of the lab coat and gently tugged on the tie until it was free. This took her by surprise, and she wound her fingers around it, not gripping it, but simply holding onto it.

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. She had seen this man before in this place, but had never really spoken to him. If the truth were known, she never spoke to anyone here. She lowered her head once again, the most indescribable humiliation filling her. After several moments, she raised her head once more. Her eyes seemed to be taking in the bright colors that emanated him, but at the very same instant, she could not imagine any man seeing her in this state. As she raised her head, the shame literally swallowing her, but something made her keep her gaze locked on him.

"My name is Thomas Jenkins," he introduced himself, his voice a soft and gentle cadence. "I'm the doctor who will be taking over your case."

She shrugged her shoulders not caring. Her head once more lowered as she continued to stroke the tie, her fingers feeling as though they were touching the finest silk. Slowly, she lowered her hands and looked warily at him before running her hands along her bruised arms. As she did this, her body stiffened in pain and she found herself biting down hard on her lip trying to keep the tears of agony from streaming down her face.

Thomas watched her and from somewhere, there came understanding. Her silent actions were clear to him and he reached over and touched her shoulder, his hand stroking it gently. She stiffened momentarily, but when he spoke, his voice made her relax somewhat. "I was informed about what Dr. Davenport did to you," he said apologetically. "I can assure you that you will not ever have to see her again. Her case is being heard by the British Psychiatric Association and it is not looking good. That is, she and her cohorts will probably be put away as a result of their inhumane treatment of you as well as of others."

She nodded. If truth were known, she really didn't care. She wished somehow that the woman who had hurt her had succeeded in doing away with her. Then she'd be dead…dead just like her family. She blinked, but wrapped her arms further around herself, not fully trusting or allowing herself to let this man see into her world.

"I know it must be terribly difficult for you to be in this place. I read that you lost your family several years back, and you feel alone and isolated from everyone and everything," he said compassionately. "You've probably heard more doctors tell you that being here is for your own good. I don't know how true that is, and I certainly don't think you're crazy." He smiled mysteriously, his last words a mere whisper that only she could hear. "I do know that it will take time for you to trust me, but I am willing to try and earn your trust."

She nodded slowly.

"Let me see what I can do to help you, at least get you out of this room for a time so you can interact with others." His words emerged soft, his eyes seeming to be more like a mirror into his heart than anything else. "I do not understand why it is that they have decided to keep you isolated for what appears to have been the last six months. But, will you be patient with me while I try to figure all this out, won't you?"

The woman raised her head. This was indeed a strange question coming from someone whom she thought didn't care about her at all. After several moments of silence passed between them, Susan Pevensie's resolve somehow overrode her desire to stay silent. "T-thank you," she whispered meekly.

The doctor nodded as he rubbed his hand through his hair, stuffed the tie back beneath the folds of his lab coat, and stood up to go.

"Wait, please don't go," she raised her head and looked at him, her eyes filled with desperation as well as unshed tears.

He turned to face her, but crouched down so that he would be eye level with her. He said nothing, he simply looked into her eyes, his blue eyes staring deeply into hers. Gently, he rested his hand on her shoulder, the touch making her look back into the depths of his eyes.

"D-do I know you?" She whispered, her voice emerging as though in a trance.

He took a deep breath and sat back down, his back conveniently facing the door. "I cannot tell you that, but do try to remember, Susan." He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "I want to help you find your way back home. That is why I'm here."

"Home?" She bit down on her lip, but no further words emerged.

"Yes, you see, sometimes it helps to remember the places you have been to, not necessarily the place where you presently are," he said softly as he once more got to his feet and reached for the file. "You are not alone, not anymore." He whispered and within seconds, he was gone.

Susan stared at the door once it had closed behind him. She looked down at her lap and shook her head as tears streamed from beneath her eyes. "But it hurts too much to remember..."


	2. Self Inflicted Isolation

_chibi amelia__, Jessek, and Lone Islands, thanks to the three of you for your reviews. I'm so glad that you like this idea and that you are interested in reading more. I am posting this for the three of you. I hope that more people will read and review this story. I have, thus far been very motivated with working on this, and I sincerely hope that you will enjoy reading it. This chapter is longer than my usual four to five page chapters._

_I hope that you will enjoy this. It does go into much more detail about Susan, but this is an important chapter because it ties into later chapters. There's a great deal of symbolism in this, thus some of the emphasized ideas are repeated. Here's hoping you catch them._

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**The Road Home **

**Chapter 1: Self Inflicted Isolation**

Susan's interaction with this strange doctor continued on a daily basis for several weeks. As this odd, yet familiar, man started to gain her trust, she found herself starting to talk about herself. Specifically, she spoke of what her favorite colors were or how the sun would shine in through her window and cast a prism of light across the walls. She still did not trust herself to go into too much detail about her life before the hospital.

For whatever reason, she could not remember anything that had happened. Oddly, she had started to have dreams about strange creature who drank tea with milk and wore some strange woolen object around his neck. Soon after having this dream, she had been allowed to leave this room and then saw Dr. Jenkins walking through the hall with a red scarf around his neck, a black overcoat, a large parcel tucked under one arm and an umbrella in the other. There was something oddly familiar about this image, but she could not remember what it was. She could simply not remember that her younger sister had described it when they had been children.

When she was not having strange dreams, her memories seemed to stem back to her three siblings. She remembered them, but she never really spoke of them in her dialogues with Thomas. In fact, most of what she remembered about them was kept in the recesses of her heart.

She raised her head and looked up to see that someone was unlocking the door. She figured that it was the doctor, coming to speak with her. He did this every day and they would generally talk for about half an hour and then he would leave and a young female intern would come and take her to the recreation room.

Much to her surprise, the doctor had made good on his promise and she was now allowed to leave her cell twice daily.

"Hello, Susan," Thomas said as he managed to limp his way into her room, the door he closed behind him, but left it unlocked. "How are you feeling today?"

"OK," she mumbled with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

He nodded as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Have you had anymore nightmares?"

"No, not really, but I did have a strange dream last night," she said softly as she looked at him. "Shall I tell you about it?"

"If you'd like. You're not required to, though," he offered cordially.

That was the way he always was, he normally would say these same words after she would raise a question of this kind. Something in these words made her begin to trust him. Today, for the first time, she had actually vocalized this. "I know, but I think I do trust you," she responded weakly.

Thomas smiled. This was the first time she had responded to him in this way. "Thank you, you don't know how much that means to me. Trust is very difficult to attain and sometimes it takes months or years for one to trust a stranger."

Susan shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know if it is all that important," came the almost automatic response. "I dreamt about this…this creature with a bright red scarf. He did not look like anything I have ever seen, but there was a strange warmth about him."

He smiled and nodded understandably. "Do you remember anything else about him? How he looked, his mannerisms?"

She shook her head. "Nothing except that it was really a nice dream, almost comforting in the wake of all the scary stuff that I have dreamt."

"Have you had anymore nightmares?" He asked gently. "If so; I can order you up some medication to counter it."

She nodded. "I still have them, but not as often. Not since Dr. Davenport left.""

"Perhaps she was the one who triggered them," he offered but was not surprised that Susan nodded feebly. "Well, if that is the case, then hopefully, we can help you so that you won't have to take any medication to get over them," he said smiling. He did not add that he found it abhorring to have to pumping her full of drugs to get her past the nightmares.

The rest of their thirty minute dialogue passed without either of them saying anything new. In fact, when he got up to leave, he smiled cordially at her. "Rachel will be here momentarily so that you can have teatime with her in the recreation room. Today you get cheesecake, and from what I hear, it's quite good."

Susan nodded and watched as he got up and left the room. She listened as the door clicked twice, and she went back over and sat down on the bed. She remained seated until Rachel came.

There was something rather likable about the young intern, even if she sometimes treated her like she was an inept fool. For the most part, the young woman was pretty smart as well as funny. She would talk about music and books, and it gave Susan a feeling that she had a sort of connection to the outside world. Today, the intern came in, her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and star shaped earrings hung from her earlobes. Otherwise, she was dressed in white like everyone else in this place.

"Hey, how was your chat with Dr. Jenkins?" Rachel asked smiling as she came in.

"It was alright," Susan said shrugging her shoulders. "I'm so ready to get out of here though. This room is so depressing." She had not quite learned to relax around Rachel yet, but she was much further along than any of the other interns.

Rachel nodded sympathetically. "Then a few hours in the recreation room should help. You going to talk to the others today?" She asked, all the while referring to the other patients who sat in the room and read books or played games during that time of day. Susan did neither, she sat listlessly at the table, her attention on a black and white television set. The absence of color was something that not even Rachel could even begin to understand, but she never raised a complaint about it. In this place she could not afford to. There was no telling when something would suddenly be taken away from her.

Susan shook her head, her attention suddenly diverted back to the girl who was walking with her. "Why should I talk to them?" She asked. "They wouldn't understand me even if I did. Besides I already talked to Dr. Jenkins today. That should be enough."

"Perhaps," Rachel responded with a shrug of her shoulders as they reached the end of the corridor. The intern slowly opened the door before ushering her into the room.

This room, like every other room in the hospital was void of color, the white walls and dark brown colored sofas was almost as depressing as the scarce furnishings of Susan's desolate cell. She went over and sat down on the sofa, her elbows immediately coming to rest on her knees.

For the most part, the room was empty. Three other people occupied it, two patients and another intern. The two patients were sitting across from one another and playing checkers, the intern was rolling himself a cigarette, which he would smoke during his break.

"Hey, Rachel," he offered as he finished and dug in his pocket looking for a lighter. "You want to watch these two while I go on my break?" He asked.

"Sure, Bob," she said and watched as her co-worker quickly left the room and the door closed behind him. Rachel watched as the two other patients quietly continued playing. After several minutes, she looked at Susan. "You want to put a puzzle together?"

Susan shook her head. "No." She wished that the intern would not treat her like a child. She was not that little girl anymore and there was a vast difference between someone being in a depression and being a juvenile. She silently wrung her hands together, but these aggravations were not expressed, instead she wordlessly stared down at her intertwined fingers.

* * *

At the same time, Rachel Feldman quietly sat watching Susan. The young intern took a deep breath and released it as a pent up sigh. She was not sure how to act anymore, her thoughts were a jumble. Here she was twenty-three years old, only four years younger than Susan Pevensie, and yet she wondered what her state would have been if she had lost her entire family as tragically as Susan had done.

She had worked in the hospital close to a year and had witnessed the manner in which Delores Davenport had completely destroyed her. All of this in the wake of the state putting a defenseless Susan into the woman's care. Rachel had watched as Susan had been pumped full of medications, her hair had started to fall out because of the effects of these drugs. Now her hair was starting to grow back out, but the young woman still looked terrible. She literally had bald patches in her hair, which were finally starting to grow back out. Rachel had been the one who finally found the courage to bring these travesties to the attention to the board of directors at this hospital.

In the days to follow Dr. Davenport's arrest, Rachel was relieved when the board of directors for the hospital assigned Thomas Jenkins to take Susan's case. The only drawback however was the fact that the two orderlies who had caused Susan so much physical pain were still employed there and no one intended on kicking them out. As she watched the three patients, her thoughts suddenly drifted back to the day that she had seen Susan for the very first time.

**Flashback**

The cries seemed to encase the building. Even from several hundred meters away, she could still hear the tortured screams filling her ears. Without thinking, Rachel stood up and slowly made her way down the hall to where they had originated, their sounds reaching a deafening pitch by the time she reached the end of the hallway. Concealing herself in the shadows, she watched and waited until she saw a new patient being brought in, or in this case, dragged in.

The woman in question was relatively young, but she concluded that on sight, she could not have been all that much older than she was. The patient's face was void of color, the skin covered with dirt and smeared makeup, her eyes puffy and bloodshot. She looked as though she had been given some sort of mind altering drugs prior to being brought into this place. As the two men dragged the young woman closer, Rachel managed to get an even closer look at her. The first thing she noticed was how her hair now hung in clumps down over her shoulders and her face had bright red streaks across it. This was not just from having cried, Rachel concluded, but must have been from having been exposed to abuse.

Her suspicions about the beatings were abruptly affirmed when Delores Davenport appeared at the end of the hallway and walked down the corridor as though she had just been crowned queen of England. The psychiatrist was dressed in a drab gray colored business suit, a coal black scarf wrapped around her bony neck and a white lab coat covering the suit. Her lips were a single thin line, not showing even the trace of a smile. Yet, what horrified her the most was not so much the woman's appearance as the long silver colored rod she carried. It looked more or less like a staff of some kind, the object approximately a meter long with a round head at one end. She had actually seen the woman use this as a means of controlling unruly patients, but she cringed at the sight of it. Rachel simply could not believe that this was an appropriate measure for anyone.

For what it was worth, none of the other doctors in this place ever used such a thing, Rachel thought as she watched the woman walking towards where she was now hiding. She truly looks like a witch with a wand, the young intern thought for a fleeting instant. Suddenly, her contemplations were abruptly stilled as Davenport's voice emerged, the icy coldness literally filing the air. Rachel shuddered as she suddenly felt as though the temperature had dropped about ten degrees in a matter of seconds.

"Do whatever you have to do to make her stop screaming," the woman commanded. It was at that moment that Rachel realized that the woman had been screaming the whole time, but what happened next struck her with absolute horror. The men nodded and while one held the woman in place, the other began to slap her hard across the face, the impact loud, and after several minutes of watching, she had had enough.

"Stop it!" She screamed as loud as she could as she crept from her hiding place and ran towards the now hysterical woman. "Leave her alone, she doesn't deserve such inhumane treatment."

She reached out and grabbed the arm of one of the men trying to get him to release the young woman. When she could not get him to stop, much less release his hold, she could feel the iron grip of the woman suddenly gripping her upper arm. She tried without any success at getting the other woman to release her hold, but when she did not, the intern was left defenseless.

Without a word to Rachel, Delores jerked her away from the two men, her voice piercing the stillness. "Take her to her room," she ordered and Rachel was left staring after them as they dragged the new arrival half screaming, half crying down the hall.

Once the door had closed, she could no longer hear the woman's terrified cries. Several moments passed and she finally managed to pull her arm out of the vice-like grip of the other woman. "What sort of person are you?" She shouted with unsuppressed anger.

"You have no right to judge me or my methods," Delores snapped as she raised the rounded end of her baton up to Rachel's chin. "I swear to you, little princess, if you make trouble for me, you will be finished here. I will make sure that you lose your job at this hospital and will not find one anywhere else." She lowered the end of the baton and looked at the girl, her eyes angry catlike slits.

Rachel obediently nodded, her thoughts constantly on the young woman she had seen, but no further words emerged. She was not about to show that the other woman frightened her, but at the same time, she sincerely hoped and prayed that someone would come and help this stranger before Davenport ended up killing her.

The intern started to walk away, but the psychiatrist reached out and grabbed her arm once more, the fingernails of the woman digging into the skin. "I would advise you not to say a word about what you have seen. I would imagine that it would be far worse for the patient if you do." She smiled cruelly. "We both know that you don't want anything bad to happen to little Susan Pevensie."

Rachel jerked her arm away from the woman and regarded her with far more gumption than she felt. "Don't you dare threaten me," she snapped. "You are not going to intimidate me, Dr. Davenport," she said evenly and started back down the hall.

Several minutes later and as if on cue, she suddenly could hear the tortured screams filling the air. Angrily, she bit down on her lip, her thoughts literally racing. Maybe Davenport has more clout here than I thought, she eventually concluded.

This was all so wrong, but what can I do? She asked herself. As she began to make her way back down the hall to the nurse's station, she suddenly felt someone's eyes on her and she turned around and her gaze locked with the emphatic blue eyes of Thomas Jenkins.

**Flashback end**

Sighing, Rachel's thoughts returned to the present. She had asked Thomas about Susan's family right after he had taken her case and he had informed her that they had all died in a train accident. It was no wonder Susan ended up here, but the fact that she had been hurt in all of this seemed completely unfair. God, why have You abandoned Susan Pevensie? She often prayed, but there emerged no answer to that question.

On the very same day she learned about the young woman's misfortunes, her prayers went from being simple ponderings to pleas of desperation. It had taken Rachel far too long to come out and tell what she knew, but now that she did, she felt as though she owed Susan some sort of restitution for having waited.

The guilt washed over her, but she internally blamed God for it. It had taken Him an awfully long time to get around to answering this one small request. Now, if all of these things had happened to me, she often thought, I would probably would have ended up dead.

It was for this very reason that Susan's overwhelming will to survive had completely amazed Rachel. As she continued to think about the other woman, she sighed. There was really nothing completely out of the ordinary about Susan, probably the strangest was the manner in which she mentioned her three siblings. She never spoke of them using their names, instead, she assigned strange adjectives for each one of them. Her elder brother she always called 'Magnificent', and her younger brother, 'Just'. Her younger sister, she always called 'Valiant'. These were not real names, but Susan behaved as if they were.

Rachel's thoughts shifted to Dr. Jenkins. She could not fully grasp how it was that someone as strange as this man could actually have become a successful psychiatrist. She had heard him when he had spoken to Susan, the words unmistakable when he had said: 'I want to help you find your way back home'. What did all of this mean anyway? It was almost as though there was some hidden meaning behind these words.

When she asked him later about them, he had looked at her and smiled briefly before speaking. 'Everyone needs to find their way home and sometimes these journeys take one away from a physical incarnation and onto their destiny'. Although Rachel could understand the feeling, she started to ask herself where Susan's home really was as well as how much Thomas Jenkins really know about this place.

She swallowed and looked over at Susan. The young woman remained seated, no words emerging. The silence was almost overwhelming, and Rachel could not help but wonder what thoughts were going through the intern's mind.

* * *

Susan finished the last of her cheesecake and pushed the plate away. From the simple act of tasting something like this, the realization suddenly seemed to hit her anew that her family was gone. The thoughts of home seemed to infiltrate her mind as she ate her afternoon snack and she reflected on the idea of returning 'home'.

All the stupid things she had done in her life, and now what did she really have to show for them? Her three siblings were gone, her parents were gone, and she had nothing more than a patchwork of memories that made little if no sense. She remembered how often she had been roused from sleep after having terrible nightmares. Her face had been completely covered with sweat, and her eyes wide with shock and panic.

Thomas Jenkins had once said that he could not imagine her living out her days in this prison anymore than she could. There was a sort of oddness in his words and Susan found herself wondering what it was about this man that made her feel as though she could trust him.

He had a manner that was easygoing, but also gentle. There was this odd sense of familiarity about him, but she did not speak of this, instead she offered a half wave and watched as he left the patient area as the heavy metal door closed behind him. Once he had been gone, Rachel would return her to her cell and then she too would leave for home.

It was so strange, she thought, simply because the doctors in this place normally did not interact with her in such a cordial manner as he did when he would speak with her. This manner made her want to trust him, the familiarity somehow overwhelming her whenever she would look at him.

She looked down at her arms and smiled weakly. The bruises that had covered them during their initial meeting had finally started to fade, yet the abuse that she had endured seemed to bury itself deep within her soul. At one point in her dialogues with Thomas, she had unconsciously called the woman not only a 'witch who carried a steel wand' but also 'a monster whose gaze could turn another to stone'. His reaction to that had been of shock and for whatever reason, he had cringed and shifted uncomfortably.

The kind-hearted doctor had not reacted negatively to these words for the simple fact that Davenport had been called far worse things than that in this hospital, but there was something strange in his gaze upon hearing her say these words. He had stopped writing in his notebook, his gaze filled with undeniable surprise.

This was not something that she could easily forget, but yet it was something that seemed to reenter her mind every so often and she found herself thinking about it. The more time she spent in his company, the more questions she had about him.


	3. Thomas Jenkins

_My thanks and gratitude go out to my reviewers, JESSEK, lanthir1, HanyAny, u don't know mi, fledge, trecebo, and Atemu's Lover! You all are so wonderful with your feedback about this story and I'm so happy that you are enjoying it. I hope this latest chapter meets with your expectations. This particular chapter is actually a lead into an extended flashback._

_I hope that you enjoy this, and as always, I'm so loving the reviews! The chapter to my other story will be posted either later today or tomorrow. _

_Added note, Thanks Fledge for catching the typo…so noted and corrected. _

**The Road Home **

**Chapter 2: Thomas Jenkins**

At the same time Susan was sitting in the recreation room eating cheesecake with Rachel, Thomas Jenkins was making his way down the hall towards his office. He ran his hand through his curly blondish hair as he slowly walked. In his other hand he carried a manila colored file. On it, written in uneven scrawl with a felt tip pen was the simple notation: S. Pevensie. Beneath the patient's name, the date of her admittance was written as a six-digit number.

Next to the label, a small sticker was placed, this one brown in color, thus indicating that she had been admitted as a terminal patient. No one, not the patient nor the hospital staff knew specifically how long her stay there would ultimately be. One thing was clear, however, Thomas did not approve of this status marker, as his experience indicated that it could have changed at any given moment.

Since his arrival at the hospital, close to five and a half months had passed before he was given Susan's case. If truth were known, it tore him to pieces to know that part of his task was to keep Susan Pevensie a virtual prisoner here. For whatever reason, he knew from the start that Susan was no threat to herself or to others, instead she was a dreadfully sad and heartbroken young woman who had every reason in the world to grieve.

Once he had reached his office door, he dug in the pocket of his lab coat and pulled a keychain out. Tucking the file under his arm, he began to pick the keys apart, looking for the one that would ultimately unlock the door. As soon as he managed to open it, he pulled the key from the lock and pushed his way into the office. The file and keys he tossed onto the desk and in a well-practiced motion, he managed to close the door. Pulling his lab coat off, he hung it on the hook that was bolted to the back of the door.

The office, like most of the rooms in this place, was desolate and void of color. Upon his arrival, he immediately noticed that the small room had obviously once been a patient's cell or treatment room. This room was not much larger than Susan's cell, but it was nearly filled to capacity with furnishings. In the center a desk and sofa was placed. On the other side of the desk was his chair. On the two walls that were perpendicular to the door, a matching mahogany colored bookshelf and wardrobe were placed against their perspective walls and facing one another. Overall, the furnishings looked to be junk yard rejects and most of the pieces were in dire need of refinishing or replacing. The wardrobe doors looked to be in the worst possible shape, one of the doors was tilted half open, while the other had been falsely affixed to its hinges. Even worse than their appearance was the sounds of them creaking whenever the window behind the chair had been opened or when someone had come into the room in a hurry.

Instead of paying this any mind, the young doctor bit down on his lip as he rounded the desk and seated himself in the chair facing the door. As soon as he was comfortable, he rested his chin against his clenched fist and leaned up against it, his eyes now staring down at the file. It was here, in this position where his thoughts began to wander aimlessly. He did not seem willing to stop them, but instead allowed them to drift at will.

He remembered the very first day he had seen her. He had just started working at the hospital when Susan had been brought in. He recalled how Rachel had actually took it upon herself to try and defend Susan. Yet, it was he who could sense the futility of these actions. Delores Davenport would not see to reason, she was more willing and ready to induce pain than anyone else could have imagined. It was abundantly clear as to what challenges Susan would face in the hands of this brutal woman, but Thomas also knew that these experiences would ultimately bring her to his care.

He released another pent up sigh as he recalled how she had been when she was younger. He knew her, most people would not believe how, but it was the truth and although these facts seemed almost unbelievable, they could not to be denied. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his gaze settled between the heavy lids. Sometimes when he would do this, he would will himself to see her as she had once been. She had been so lovely back in those days, so brave and filled with courage, but at the same time, she had possessed a sense of gentility and compassion that none could compare.

Today, however, the impressions he got whenever he looked at her were almost a direct opposite of what he perceived in his memories. "Oh Aslan, she's worse off than I could have anticipated," was the first idea that entered his mind when he had seen Susan lying broken and crying on the bed in her room. These words would be repeated countless time over the course of her being placed in his care.

He visited with her on a daily basis and yet his greatest wish was to tell her the truth, not just part of it, but all of it. Who he was, from where he had come and why specifically he was present in her life were questions that he would ultimately have to respond to.

The truth was, he and Susan had lived almost parallel lives since her time in Narnia. He lived out his days in the old country in sadness and misery, longing and loss. He had lost those whom he served diligently, and she had lost her siblings and parents. It was so similar, and yet different. He had managed to find redemption, but Susan had not. He had joined Aslan in the new world and had found forgiveness within himself for all those wasted years, whereas Susan had yet to know and realize the limitless possibilities.

Every time he saw Susan in this state, it was as though he was looking through a mirror and seeing his own life reflected back at him. "I finally understand, Aslan," he had whispered under his breath as the realization of his own lost years washed over him. Now, for the first time in centuries, he knew what the mighty lion had been trying to convey to him. He had wasted his life in very much the same way Susan had wasted hers. Today, he could help her rediscover what he himself had once forgotten.

* * *

For the past seven years Thomas Jenkins had lived in our world as a Son of Adam. He had been working among us, as one of us. No one knew that he had once lived in a magical world called Narnia, taken on the identity of a faun named Tumnus and lived out his days in a cave on the edge of that world. The existence of Narnia was real, as real as Susan's cries in the night.

He was now Thomas, the name Tumnus seeming to drift into the emptiness of memories gone by. He had been waiting and hoping for these moments to arrive at long last. Yet, he also knew that if he purged ahead too quickly, he could risk destroying that which he had worked so hard to attain. Susan's trust was now in his hands, she had affirmed it that day, and what he did with it would determine what specifically would happen in her future as well as his own.

In addition to all these factors, he knew that Susan was as fragile as an orchid. Through his interactions with her, he vowed to help her find her way back home. What he had implied was not the home with the brick house and the picket fence, but rather a home that was much more eternal, much more lasting. The home was what he had found in the new Narnia and Aslan had sent him to London to bring Susan Pevensie to that new Narnia.

A spark of hope always welled inside of him during these small sessions they had. Susan had mentioned that as soon as she was released from the hospital that she would leave London for good and never return. He could understand this desire perhaps far better than anyone else. His wish was to leave as well, after all, he could not get past the desolate days, the constant rain showers, and the horrible excuse for tea they tried to shove onto him here. No, as soon as he had completed the task he had undertaken, he would be ready to go as well.

Thomas always knew Susan, his memories of her emerged from a time long ago, of an experience that might have been straight out of a dream. Every time he closed his eyes, he could not help but to remember her as Queen Susan the Gentle. A young woman of radiant beauty, of kindness and a sharp shooter with a bow and arrow. What had happened to her? How did this happen to her?

He took a deep breath thus raising his head and then lowering it slowly, the weight of his chin once more resting on his fist. So many of his people remembered that she, along with Queen Lucy, had been present when Aslan had been slain at the Stone Table by the White Witch. She had been present the moment Aslan had breathed life back into him after he had been turned to stone for his treachery against the witch. This young and beautiful girl had charged straight into his arms without fear or insecurity. She had known all along who he was, yet it had taken some time for him to remember her name.

Today, Susan Pevensie was spiritually dying, her emotions and feelings were what kept her alive, but it was her heart that seemed to have already left this place long ago. With that in mind, he knew that if he was to reach her, his time was quickly running out.

He raised his head slowly and began to loosen his tie. How he hated these restrictive clothes, yet they seemed to be required in order to work in this place. He glanced down at his feet and saw the toes of his leather shoes peeking out from beneath the hem of his slacks. He would have liked to have removed the shoes as well, but did not for fear that someone else might come into the room. This alone, made him swallow that impulse, and instead he thumped his feet casually against the tiled floor.

His gaze once more returned to the desk, which except for a tea cup and saucer was void of any personal belongings. Making up for that was the cluttered workspace that had files and other papers casually strewn across it. He always kept Susan's file on top, even when working with the other cases he was assigned to. There were, of course, not very many, three to be exact. His thoughts returned to her and the fact that she recognized something in him when the two of them had first spoken. This turn of events had surprised him simply because he had tried diligently to keep his true identity from her. He did not want to do anything that might have upset or frightened her, but he knew that before he would tell her, then he must not only have her trust, but also have managed to experience the same sense of kinship that they had once known in Narnia.

Thomas had volunteered to take this task as an act of love, but he had quickly realized after several days that it had become much more than that. It was now a sacrifice of unmeasured proportions. Not only was he sent to London without a penny to his name and forced to survive under these post war conditions, he would also be subjected to several years of intense study in order to attain his degree as a medical doctor. Much to his surprise, he had accomplished said task without any trouble, but this did not change the fact that his heart and mind were occupied with other distractions.

He wondered almost constantly what was happening in Narnia. He knew that everyone was waiting and hoping that he would succeed in the task he had chosen to undertake. He also knew that Susan's sister, Lucy, the one who had inspired him to come here in the first place was waiting for him and hoping that he would not be returning alone.

Sighing, he sank into his contemplations. There was a warmth in Narnia that seemed to inspire and bring joy to all who even stopped to contemplate it. The color, he thought as he cast a fleeting glance down at the tie that he wore. He touched the silkiness of it as he remembered how Susan had reacted to it when they had met. It stands to reason, he thought the tie symbolized the bright and cheerful essence in a dark and gloomy place such as this.

Even after so much time had passed for him, it seemed so hard to believe that the woman in that cell was the sister to his beloved Lucy. Susan had once been a queen; sought after, admired, and loved by many subjects as well as princes from far off lands. Her title 'Susan the Gentle' seemed to follow her even after she had left Narnia for good.

He smiled as the image of Lucy once more filtered through his consciousness. He always felt happy when he thought of the youngest Pevensie, even during the days when he missed her more than anything.

Thankfully, she was safe, but what felt like years for him would be centuries for her. Even after the fate of her sister had filled Lucy with so much remorse, he came to realize that no matter the danger, he could never say no to her. Coming here had been the ultimate sacrifice of love and devotion, which he would make for her again and again. Aslan had sought him out as the volunteer who would leave Narnia and come to reside in the dreary world he had once referred to as 'Spare Oom'.

For whatever reason Lucy may have held, he knew he could not have denied her this chance of happiness. He loved her and this love was far more than any faun could ever love a Daughter of Eve. His love, however, transcended beyond romance, although the element of romance still remained. He had always loved Lucy, first as a friend, but today as his soul's mate. He remembered the day she had confessed to him how much she loved him and how his heart had soared with unending joy. He had reciprocated her feelings, for this love they shared could stretch way beyond the physical incarnations that we see in our limited perception.

He knew in the wake of her confession that there existed something missing inside of her, a sadness that had literally swallowed her alive. He could sense it, not simply because he had loved her since the Golden Age, but because her feelings had somehow started to become his.

There had been a time when she had been happy in this 'New Narnia', as Aslan had often called it, but now there was something missing in her heart. Of course she had enjoyed endless days with her friends, tea with Caspian, wandering through the forest with her brothers, and her nights with him.

He smiled briefly as he remembered those nights. They would sit in his cave next to a crackling fire wrapped cozily in a blanket. Her hair would be draped over the blanket, a book would rest gently on her lap. Every so often, she would take her hand out from beneath the folds of the blanket in order to turn the page.

It was close to impossible for him to forget how she would tell him stories of Spare Oom and the life she once knew before the train accident happened. Novels and classics would be studied, the works of classic writers like Swift, Dickens, and Shakespeare would be analyzed with tears, laughter, and long conversations.

He always listened attentively when she would tell him of her favorite books and stories. He smiled as her voice would rise with whenever she became excited about them. He, in turn would share with her the Narnian tales and writers he loved.

Hours would pass in a literal blur as he would raise his hand in the middle of these discussions and gently stroke her shoulder, the softness of her dressing gown brushing against his fingertips. As he would regard her, a gentle smile would tug at his lips until he felt her hand suddenly resting against his, forcing it to lower and gentle scolding words emerging from her. "You're not paying attention, dearest," she would say lightly and he would feel his face taking on a reddish hue for having been caught in the act of trying to distract her.

"My apologies, M'lady," he would say politely and squeeze her hand gently, the soft top of her hand he would place a light kiss before continuing. "Now, as you were saying."

Nine times out of ten, she would have forgotten and a light bit of laughter would emerge in response. Yet, it was during this time that had passed that her amusement had become softer, almost sadder. It was at this moment when he had started to realize that she was missing something.

It was at that time that he decided that he would go and see Aslan in the hopes of helping her find the joy that she had not experienced. He would find a way to rectify the situation, somehow…


	4. Sorrows and Arrows

_a/n: Thanks again to my wonderful reviewers, darkforces, imakeladrygirl, PhoenixOwner, lanthir1, JESSEK, fledge, and trecebo (who commented in my live journal), and to all of you who have been reading and staying loyal to the story. You are all so awesome. _

_I hope that you will all enjoy this latest chapter. It has been probably the hardest one to write because I am trying very hard to keep things from getting too confusing. The second chapter will hopefully have built you up to this one._

_I hope you enjoy it, and as always, reviews are love.

* * *

_

**Chapter 3: Sorrows and Arrows **

**Flashback to Narnia**

Tumnus sat in his chair next to the fire with a cup of tea in his hand, his eyes drooping somewhat. It was early spring in Narnia, one of his favorite times of the year. Everything felt as though it was the essence of newness and vitality. On this particular day, the faun sat quietly, the cup he would bring to his lips every so often. Once he had taken a sip, he would return it to the saucer, which he held in the palm of his hand.

His mind drifted as it often did during this time of year. There were always stray memories that seemed to filter into his mind during this time of rebirth. He smiled slightly as he recalled the night before when Lucy had sat on the floor in his sitting room. She had sat comfortably there, her skirts spread out around her as though she were a blossoming flower. He sat not too far away, a small footstool acting as a chair, but his gaze constantly on her. She was so lovely, especially when she would read romantic poetry aloud. As the soft words emerged, her voice would drift to the heavens. He would sit and listen attentively as she told him stories from Spare Oom.

She had actually started to call it that, just as he had done, and this always brought a smile to his face. The way the words would roll off her tongue was endearing and the first time she had called it that, he had been somewhat taken aback. "What do you expect me to call that other place?" She had asked him somewhat indignantly when she recognized a small smirk covering his lips. He had responded with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

Reading and discussing books was a favorite evening activity, sometimes they would stay up late into the night talking over what they had read. Tumnus would tell her the great Narnian legends his father had once told him until she would drift off to sleep. Upon hearing the soft sighs emerging from her, he would gently scoop her up into his arms and with light and careful steps, he would carry her into the sleeping room and tuck her under the covers.

The past night had been no different, at least up to the moment when she had fallen asleep. When she woke that morning, however, her eyes had been wide and filled with fright, as though she had had a terrible nightmare.

For the life of him, Tumnus could not figure out why it was Lucy was so unnerved, especially when everything had been all right before. Yet, the manner in which she had fled from his cave left a great deal for him to contemplate. He had always been somewhat protective of her, but her reaction was completely new to him. He could not help but ponder what it was he could do to help her.

He replaced the cup to the saucer and stood up. Something was definitely not right with her. This was the first time anything out of the ordinary had actually happened in his presence, but it drew him back to situations he had heard tell of. It was said that King Caspian had mentioned Lucy's elder sister, Susan in casual conversation and Lucy had overheard it. Instead of engaging him in dialogue, the young queen had snapped at him and said that her sister's destiny was not any of his concern. As a result, the young king had spoken with Lucy's brother Edmund about it. Edmund and his cousin Eustace had discussed it as well. Soon after that, the story had made its rounds through the wood and it eventually Jill Pole had related it to him.

After that it seemed as though Lucy's welfare had taken hold of many conversations in Narnia. No one really knew why the young queen had become so prone to these outbursts, but it was clear that they had alarmed a number of her closest friends.

He returned the cup and saucer to the kitchen as he took a deep breath. It was time for him to go. He went back into the sitting room and cast a quick glance around the room. The floor was still covered with books. Being a neat and proper faun, he went over and returned them to the shelves. Next, he made his way to the small cabinet next to the front door. He retrieved his favorite red woolen scarf and carefully wound it around his neck, the tassels hanging casually over his chest and back. After one final glance in the looking glass, and he was ready to leave.

He was scheduled to meet Fox and Hedgehog at Lake Tirianian for a round of fishing and storytelling. Hedgehog always had some good stories to tell and would sit along the bank and talk without even so much as a pause. Every so often, he would lean over and take a long, cool drink of water from the lake and continue as though he were a politician having his go at a filibuster.

The path that led to the lake was a nice even path lined with rocks and pebbles. Contrary to that, the ground was smooth and made navigating with hooves quite easy. Ten minutes hike and he could see the shimmering water in the distance. It was still and reflected the sun's light as though made of glass. As he came even closer, he could see that along the surface of the water, there was a smattering of light, which looked like stars shining across a night sky.

Fox had already arrived and was sitting comfortably on his haunches at the water's edge. His back was to Tumnus, his gaze staring out across the water. It was indeed a sight to behold and coming closer, he recognized that Hedgehog was also sitting several feet away; his spiky back the only visible part of him. As he stepped closer to his two friends, Fox abruptly spoke up without even turning around. "Nice day we're having, wouldn't you say, Tumnus?"

"Yes, but how did you know it was me?" Tumnus asked before he could stop himself. He seemed to ask Fox this question more often than not, but it was obvious that his worries over Lucy had left him distracted.

"Oh I have my ways, keen hearing, quick wit," Fox began, but Hedgehog interrupted with a tiny snort.

"Quick wit, eh? Well I say old chap, you're about as witty as I am cuddly," Hedgehog stretched out, his quills shining in the late morning sunlight, but he continued to stretch, his paws extending out in front of him. "Hey mate," he greeted Tumnus as he finished.

"Hello, Hedgehog," Tumnus said trying to conceal a small smile, but turned to the other creature and continued. "Seriously, how did you know it was me?"

"Well, aside from the obvious explanation being that you were scheduled to meet us here today, I happened to see your reflection off the water as you were approaching," Fox stood up and turned around before gracefully sitting back down on the ground and looking up at his friend.

"The truth comes out," Hedgehog smirked. "Though not a very creative truth."

"Well we can't all be master storytellers now, can we?" Fox chided as he yawned. As his mouth once more closed, he noticed that the faun's face was drawn with worry. Without missing a beat, his expression became serious and he looked at him. "You alright, Tumnus?"

"I'm alright, thank you for inquiring," he began, his voice unconvincing.

"No you're not, you're worried," Hedgehog said matter-of-factly.

"What is it?" Fox asked as if on cue.

"I don't wish to be the source of rumors," Tumnus hedged. "However, I fear I must ask if either of you have noticed anything out of the ordinary about Queen Lucy. As of late, I fear that she may not be content here."

"Maybe it's you," Hedgehog said cunningly. Tumnus snapped his head around and looked at him sharply. Eventually, he held up his paws in negation, but backed down. "I mean; maybe she's fine, and you're misinterpreting her emotions."

"I don't know, Hedgehog," Fox began. "There have been a few too many coincidences happening with her. First of all, you are aware of what happened with King Caspian when he mentioned Queen Susan the Gentle. Then only last night, I heard one of the tree nymphs relating an incident about the very same issue. Upon hearing it, Queen Lucy looked as though she was going to break down crying."

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," Tumnus said. "Last night she stayed at my cave and this morning, she woke up frantic. It was as though she had had a terrible nightmare of some kind. When I entered the chamber and looked at her, I noticed that her face was covered with sweat. Her eyes were wide with fright, but she looked as though she was half asleep and half awake. When I asked her over breakfast about it, she did not answer, instead, she got up and left abruptly. She's always talked to me about her troubles, but now, there's something keeping her from doing even that." As he spoke, he managed to seat himself atop a large rock, but made sure he could still make eye contact with his two friends.

"I see," came the almost automatic response from Fox. "I have taken notice of her as well, but I kept thinking that time has its ways of healing all wounds. I started telling myself that she would eventually start to feel better, but sadly that has not yet come to pass."

"I cannot help but think that there is much more going on than her simply being unhappy. There must be something that has been deeply troubling her. Given the reasons behind her outbursts, it must have something to do with her sister," Tumnus responded.

"You think that this is about Queen Susan?" Fox asked.

"I can't conclude otherwise," Tumnus offered.

"Perhaps it is Queen Susan's absence," Hedgehog offered. "Recently I was talking with King Caspian about this very topic and he said that he remembered when he met Queen Susan the Gentle the first time. He said that he had been completely mesmerized by her. It wasn't some romantic thing, but it was a feeling that he had about her. She had this way of affecting anyone she met positively, and that was through a kind word or a smile. Yet, when Queen Lucy had approached us, King Caspian suddenly went quiet and no further words were said. It was rather strange, but it did explain quite a bit to me."

"Perhaps what is important for all of us to do is to let Queen Lucy to know that missing her sister is not at all wrong. The truth is, the whole of Narnia misses her. We all mourn the fact that Queen Susan is not with us," Fox said. "Personally, I really cannot believe the High King's words about his sister no longer being a loyal friend to Narnia."

"That may be so, but none of us really know what Queen Susan is like today, so much time has passed since her last trip into what was once the Shadowlands," Hedgehog replied rationally.

"That may be so, but I believe that the only one who can really help Her Majesty to cope with her heartache would be Aslan," Fox said. "Perhaps what we ought to do is find him and see if he can help somehow."

"Yes, Aslan has always had a rather close bond with Queen Lucy, and I am almost certain that he would know what action must be undertaken in order to help," Tumnus said with a slow nod.

"I heard a rumor from a group of bears that Aslan had journeyed to Archenland," Hedgehog supplied. "Perhaps one of us should head in that direction. We could intercept him and ask for his help."

"What should I do?" Tumnus asked.

"I would suggest that you set off to Beaver Dam and let the beavers know of your concerns. You talk to them, maybe they have some idea of what it is can be done here in Lantern Waste," Fox said.

"You ever wonder why it is still called 'Lantern Waste' when there is no lantern?" Hedgehog asked.

"Not now," Fox said exasperated. "Save that story for your kiddies."

"Of course," Hedgehog chuckled, his face once more growing serious as Fox looked at Tumnus.

"Once you talk to the beavers, perhaps you should try and coax the information out of Queen Lucy," the fox said as he looked at Hedgehog. "Perhaps you can go and spread the word around the wood that we're trying to find Aslan. I shall be off to Archenland straightaway."

"Alright," Hedgehog responded and within seconds he had scurried away. The last thing they saw of him were the tips of his spikes as he wound his way through some shrubbery and disappeared in the distance.

"I appreciate all your help, Fox," Tumnus said and looked into the tiny black eyes of the fox. "You don't know how much."

"Oh, I have an idea, but not to worry, we'll figure this out," Fox said and with that, he got to his feet, shook himself out, and sped off. The last thing Tumnus saw of him was an orange, black, and white blur.

Once the faun was left alone, he slowly got to his hooves and started to make his way in the direction of the Beavers' dam. The trek between the lake and the dam was a short walk, probably no more than twenty minutes. En route to the dam, he would pass by Lucy's small cottage.

The small house was located on the bank of the same river where the beavers lived. The spot had enchanted Lucy since the first day she had been brought into the 'New Narnia'. This led her to begging Aslan to let her have a house in this meadow. The mighty lion had agreed because he knew that she loved living in nature as opposed to being cooped up in a castle.

Tumnus had been overjoyed upon hearing the news that Lucy intended to live there. The house and his cave were not very far apart and they could visit one another whenever they wished. He really loved Lucy's little house, the small Victorian style cottage was small and dainty, but was not too terribly girlish. She had somehow managed to keep its traditional exterior, at the same time, giving it the essence of a hunter's cabin. It was nestled snugly between a crop of trees and emanated quaintness and solitude. He stopped and stood for several moments at the house, something suddenly catching his attention. Next to the front door and propped up against the wall, a bow and arrow rested.

For whatever reason, his gaze remained affixed there.

**Flashback End**

A light tap on the door brought Thomas out of his reverie and he slowly got to his feet and went to open it. As he did, standing on the other side was Robert McMullen, one of the other interns at the hospital.

"Yes, what can I do for you?" Thomas asked as he regarded the young man who was casually leaning up against the doorframe. "Your name is Robert, correct?"

"Yes, but everyone calls me Bob," he began, his voice tinged with a heavy Scottish lilt. Bob was closing in on thirty years of age, but his disposition gave others the impression that he was much younger. He had shining gray eyes, which were sometimes concealed by a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. His hair was cropped short and hung down until it brushed casually against the collar of his button down the front shirt. He wore no tie; instead the top button of the shirt was open to reveal a white t-shirt beneath it. The dress shirt hung loosely down over the slacks he wore, his clothing oftentimes looking ragged and unkempt. He had a way of avoiding judgment by way of his cheerful disposition and overwhelming willingness to help others.

Thomas had recognized from the start that nothing was beneath Bob. In fact, aside from his normal duties as intern, he was often seen helping custodial workers push buckets through doorways, or telling stories to children in the waiting room. Across his freckled face, he carried a somewhat lopsided smile on his face.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the recreation room?" The doctor asked casually.

"Yes Sir, I know, but Rachel's there right now with the patients. She just got back from her break, and has relieved me so that I could come find you and tell you what just happened," the younger man said as he brushed his hair out from in front of his face.

"What happened?" Thomas asked. He inched closer to Bob and could suddenly detect the faint mixture of cigarettes and spearmint gum on his breath. Thomas guessed that Bob had used the gum as a means to detract the odors caused by the cigarette he had smoked during his break.

"Well, to be honest, Sir, something quite peculiar just happened," he said as he looked into the kind blue eyes of the doctor. "You said that we should inform you immediately if something happens, so here I am. Aside from that, I needed to come see you anyway. Mrs. Richardson from Personnel said I needed to discuss my internship with you."

"Yes, I seem to recall wanting to see how you were fairing with that," he began as he backed away from the door and motioned for the younger man to come inside. "Please, take a seat," he offered as he closed the door.

"Of course if this is a bad time, I could always come back later," Bob offered politely.

"No, it's not a bad time, in fact, I remember someone saying that you would be coming by sometime today to discuss the position. It just slipped my mind for some reason," Thomas sat down next to him on the sofa as opposed to going to the other side of the desk. "From what I have been able to understand, you would ultimately like to take my place when I leave, correct?" Thomas asked.

"I was hoping to apply for the job, but that would depend on how my thesis turns out," he said honestly. "I actually was rather hoping that you wouldn't leave. You're one of the nicest doctors here and I think this hospital really needs you."

"Well, let me just say this, Bob, my appointment here was not permanent, they knew that I would only be here long enough for them to fill the position permanently. I made sure they were aware of the fact that I did not intend to stay permanently. I figure by the end of the year, the position would be filled." As he finished speaking, he could detect a trace of sadness lurking in Bob's eyes. "Is something else the matter?"

"No, I'm fine," the younger man responded, but the doctor looked at him intently. "I just can't imagine you leaving is all, especially with the caseload you have. The patients trust you, Dr. Jenkins and if you leave, I don't know what is going to happen to them."

"Well, only one of the patients is code brown," Thomas began, his gaze casually sweeping over the files on his desk. "The rest are code green, that means when their treatment is over, they will be able to check themselves out of the hospital and go home."

"I know, and I'm not really worried about Mr. Harkins, Mrs. Vickers, or Mrs. Gottlieb, but Ms. Pevensie's case does worry me. The others have made great strides in their treatment since you took their cases. I have watched Ms. Pevensie when Rachel's gone on breaks and stuff, and I'm not sure if I will ever earn her trust. Added to that, I honestly don't think she will survive once you leave. I mean; think about what happened to her when she was being tortured by Davenport."

"I understand your fears, but I'm not leaving tomorrow," Thomas said. The young doctor sincerely hoped that he could help curtail some of Bob's nervousness. He hoped that he would attain this without telling him everything.

"The problem is, Dr. Jenkins, I've tried talking to her, but all she does is stare off into space and doesn't respond. Just now, while Rachel was on her break, I was sitting in the recreation room watching her. This is why I wanted to come see you."

"What did she do?" Thomas asked.

"She stood up as though in a trance," he began. "I got up and started walking towards her. I wanted to ask her what she was trying to do or if she needed something. When I got close enough, she turned abruptly away from me and faced the wall. As she did this, she raised her hands and held them as though she was readying herself with a bow and arrow. It wasn't a textbook hallucination; she looked as though she knew exactly what she was doing. She held her left hand out as though holding onto the bow, and with her right hand, she pulled back to her shoulder as though ready to release the arrow."

"Is that all she did?" He asked, his thoughts returning immediately to the terrace of Lucy's house. Unconsciously, he shivered as disbelief washed over him.

"No, that was what was so strange. Once she had released the 'arrow', she lowered her arms and sat back down on the sofa as though nothing had happened. I came over to her at that moment and asked her what it was she had been trying to do. She said absolutely nothing in response. I'm sure the incident is on file in the monitoring station if you want to go and have a look."

Thomas nodded. "Yes, I think we ought to do just that."

"I don't really know if I really want to, though," Bob admitted. "It was very strange."

"If you are to take on my job after I go, then you're going to have to come with me. You need to get to know the other patients in my care. Part of this job means observing replays of monitored material," Thomas said sternly. "It would not do them any good if you were to just appear in their lives from out of nowhere. I'm no miracle worker, Bob, I'm just as human as you." As these words emerged, he cringed, but got to his feet and slowly made his way to the door.

Bob looked at the doctor, and shrugging his shoulders, he followed.

* * *

_No, this is not the end..._


	5. A Bond Between the Worlds

_a/n: Before I resume with the story, there is something that I wish to confess here. I have no archery experience, although I would bet that it is a precise science and there are positions that must be taken to attain the best possible result with regard to it. So, I ask that you please understand that as much as I would love to research the finite details of archery, I simply haven't the time to do so. That means I'm winging it just a little_

_Additionally, this story may seem as though there are two distinctive plotlines going on, but I can assure you that by the end of the story, those plotlines will come together. I think most of you have reached the conclusion that the flashbacks lead up to Tumnus becoming Thomas, and how all that transpired. Susan will be reappearing in the coming chapters, so you won't just have her as a third person character or an object of observation._

_  
My sincerest thanks go out to: trecebo, fledge, JESSEK, and Lanthir1 for the reviews. I am really glad you are enjoying this. And no, this is not the last chapter, but this one is for you._

_Made word change per fledge's suggestion, thanks for catching that. _

_

* * *

_**Chapter 4: A Bond Between the Worlds**

As they stepped out into the corridor, Thomas shoved the file into Bob's arms so that he could put on his lab coat. Once he had finished locking the door, he accepting the file once again. Silently, they made their way down the hall and rounded a corner.

When they reached a second door at the end of the hall, an elderly woman in a flowered dress approached. It was Martha Richardson, the woman from Personnel who had sent Bob to see Thomas. "Well, I see that Mr. McMullen has managed to find you, Dr. Jenkins," she began as a formal greeting.

Thomas nodded as he regarded the friendly eyes of the woman. He recognized that there existed an almost grandmotherly essence about her. She was one of the people who helped him when he had first come to the hospital. She always smiled and this reminded him a lot of Mrs. Beaver, especially after she mentioned having sewn her own clothes.

Her head was full of wiry gray hair and a pair of thick rimmed spectacles covered her warm and friendly eyes. Her wrinkled lips were covered with ruby red lipstick and when she smiled, one could see the same color smeared across the front of her bucked teeth. She rubbed her pudgy hands together and regarded the two men. "Did you manage to get the assistance you mentioned needing, Mr. McMullen?" She asked kindly. "I suppose I ought to get used to addressing you as 'Doctor'."

Bob blushed somewhat, "not just yet, my thesis is still in the editing stages, and finals won't be for another month."

For his part, Thomas gave the woman a strange look and then regarded the intern somewhat sternly. "You asked for assistance?" He asked.

"Yes he did, but nothing regarding the patients, you see," the woman said as she gently nudged him. "We all know in Personnel that patient stories and actions are not any of our concern. Mr. McMullen happened to be looking for you earlier, Dr. Jenkins, and I told him that you were either with a patient, in the cafeteria, or in your office."

Thomas nodded. "Of course," he smiled at the elderly woman and then looked at Bob. "We have something that needs tending, if you'll excuse us."

Mrs. Richardson nodded and smiled. "Of course."

She slowly made her way back down the hall in the direction she had come and once they were alone, Bob looked at Thomas. "I already know about the Hippocratic Oath, Dr. Jenkins. I know that the discussion of any patient's case with someone other than the patient or their family is strictly not tolerated. In other words, all issues regarding them are to be taken in strict confidentiality, correct?"

Thomas nodded. "I shouldn't have doubted you."

"It's happened before," Bob said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "I'm not really worried about it. Dr. Davenport was more strict about things like that. She expressed an interest in me becoming her protégé, and often called me her 'little prince'."

"Her 'little prince'?" Thomas asked. "That sounds rather strange coming from someone who is nearly a foot shorter than she is."

"No kidding, but it's true," Bob said as he shook his head. "I saw so much happen during the last few months. It was absolutely horrible, as though this hospital was under some kind of spell. Everyone who works here were aware of Davenport's blatant disregard for the patients' rights, but were too afraid to act on it. It was as though every time the woman got angry or lost control, it was directed at the patients instead of at us."

"Are you saying that Delores Davenport took all her aggression out on people who were weaker instead of trying to discuss her grievances with someone on equal footing?" Thomas asked.

Bob nodded. "Someone should have done something about it before now, and in hindsight, I remember so many small incidents.. It was like in that book 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest'. You would think that it was fiction, but there exists an indescribable hate in some people towards the mentally ill. Davenport's character was case in point."

"'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest', I don't believe I've read that one," Thomas said.

"I sort of considered it a modern-day parody, but in it there was a character who was very much like Davenport and her two goons," Bob said. "I don't know why that book enters my mind, but there is something oddly familiar between that story and what is happening here."

"We are lucky that the times when this hospital was under her thumb are over," Thomas said as they reached the monitoring room. As they went inside, they flashed their identification cards to the man at the entrance and were waved through. As they reached the doorway leading into a small room, Thomas stopped. "I'll get the tape and see if we can see what was going on. Wait here."

Bob nodded as he looked around the now familiar room. He had been stationed to monitor patients rather often, but this was a part of the job that he really did not like. He was not accustomed to spying, and that was what it actually felt like.

Seconds later, Thomas returned, a large reel like tape in his hands. He came over to the table and seated himself. "Was there anything else you wanted to tell me about your experiences with Dr. Davenport before we have a look at this?"

"Nothing much left to say except that it was kind of scary. She and her two goons were trying everything they could to get me to work with them," Bob shook his head. "There was this one afternoon when I had gone into the locker room to get my stuff to go home and I found that the padlock had been picked and inside it were baked sweets and a request saying I should come immediately to the treatment room on the first floor."

"Really?" Thomas raised his head, his eyebrows unconsciously arching.

"It was strange, Dr. Jenkins. I heeded the request knowing that it was from one of my superiors. I went to the room and she was alone in there. I had never been alone with this woman before, generally because her two henchmen were usually hanging about. But, there she stood trying to look seductive, but failing miserably. All I remember was feeling very awkward. She looked at me as though I was the main dish at a buffet line. It was very unsettling."

"Did you tell the committee that investigated her about that?" Thomas asked.

"Yes Sir, I did. There was a lot of stuff that happened. It was just before you took Ms. Pevensie's case. These were things that shouldn't have happened," Bob nodded. "Now that you're here, things seemed to have quieted down considerably. I mean, when Davenport was here I literally walked on eggshells. I was always scared that she would do something to 'destroy' my future. She made me believe that she held it in the palm of her hand"

"What happened with the sweets?" Thomas asked curiously.

"I gave the whole lot back to her. I didn't want them, and I wasn't about to be bought or quieted through sweeties," he said sarcastically.

Thomas swallowed upon hearing the word emerging from the young man. "Let's have a look at this tape," he said trying to keep his voice steady and Bob nodded as they put it in the player and the intern pressed the 'play' button.

As he watched the actions play out, Thomas could feel himself being lulled back to his memories. The images that were now filtering through his mind brought a smile to his face.

Susan Pevensie is starting to remember. Even if she was not conscious of it, the memories were beginning to take form.

**Flashback to Narnia**

As Tumnus' started to walk by Lucy's house, he noticed that she was sitting in the bay window staring outside. He waved to her but she did not seem to notice him. "I'll stop in and see you later," he affirmed quietly as he continued to walk slowly in the direction of the Beaver's dam.

As he reached the door to the Beavers' burrow, he lightly knocked. From the other side, he could detect the sounds of a sewing machine running. This sound drifted from the inner recesses of the burrow, out the open window, and filled his ears. As it suddenly stopped, he could hear someone padding their way to the door.

As it opened, a furry head peered around and stared outside through a pair of coal-black eyes. Upon recognizing who had come calling, a firm voice emerged.

"Oh my heavens, dear Tumnus, you have come once again unannounced," the she-beaver smiled but scolded him gently as she began to hastily stroke her fur into place. "I look such a fright. If I had known of your visit, I'd have made my fur a wee bit more presentable."

"Oh Mrs. Beaver, you look lovely as always, not to worry," Tumnus said smiling.

"Oh you shameless flatterer," she smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling, thus showing that she deeply appreciated his compliment. "Oh, where are my manners? Please Tumnus, do come in." She backed away from the door and allowed him access into the burrow. "I really should be outside on such a lovely day, but there so much work that needs tending."

"Yes, it is quite a lovely day," he responded grunting as he managed to squeeze his taller frame into the snug burrow.

As he entered, the first thing that caught his eye was the sewing machine in the corner and a large piece of fabric draped over it. Mrs. Beaver's watchful eyes followed his gaze and she nodded as the two of them seated themselves at the comfortable table. "I was working on new curtains for Traianna's new house. She has this thing for floral prints and she begged me to do the curtains for her."

Tumnus smiled and nodded. "Lovely job so far, of course she knows who does the best work."

"Well, if that is the case, dear, then I would still volunteer to decorate your cave. I did after all decorate your parents' cave and they were quite pleased with my work," Mrs. Beaver said smiling. "Would you care for a cup of tea?"

"Oh, no, thank you," he said. "Is Mr. Beaver here per chance?"

"No, I'm afraid not, dear, he went out early today meet with the badgers to work on some summer project," she said. "He should be back later, though. He promised me that he will be back at six, so I'm guessing that at around seven he'll be coming home." She laughed lightly.

"You have no objection with him hanging around the badgers?" Tumnus asked, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

"No, but I'm almost certain that you did not come calling to discuss with me the friends of Beaver," she said as she studied him intently.

After several moments of silence, she noticed the melancholy look that had once more settled over him. She got to her feet and rounded the table and rested a motherly like paw on his arm. "What is it dear?"

"It's Lucy, Mrs. Beaver," Tumnus said softly. Unlike his earlier dialogues with Fox and Hedgehog, he always called the youngest Pevensie by her given name instead of discussing her with fancy titles. Lucy seemed to prefer things that way anyway. "She has been acting rather strangely during these past few weeks. Something is not right with her, and I cannot figure out what it is."

"In other words, you're worried about her?" She asked and once he nodded, she continued. "I can understand why, the child has not been herself. Those of us who have known her the longest have recognized it."

"Yes, I've already spoken with Fox and he's on his way to Archenland to search for Aslan. Hedgehog is trying to spread the word in the meadow. I can only hope that he will see the magnitude of the situation and return to Narnia," Tumnus said. "Fox was the one who suggested that I let you and Mr. Beaver know. He figured that the more of us being on the lookout for him, the quicker he could send his aid."

"That is a good and noble idea, dear, but I think instead of doing that, you might go to Lucy and spend some time with her. It is through that you might find out what has been on her mind. After all, if she is to open up about what she is feeling to anyone, it would be with you. She has always been so very fond of you."

Tumnus nodded as a slight blush crept up his face. "Mrs. Beaver, Fox believes that perhaps Lucy is sad because of her sister's absence."

"I can understand that presumption. All of Narnia mourns Queen Susan," Mrs. Beaver said tactfully, her paw still resting against the faun's arm. "It is not just Lucy who misses her, but perhaps it hits her the hardest because Queen Susan is her sister."

"I should probably do as you suggested and go see how Lucy is doing," he said as he got to his hooves and looked down at the beaver. "Thank you for the nice talk, Mrs. Beaver."

"It was my pleasure dear, and when Beaver gets back, I'll let him know that you came by. I'm sure that he and the others will keep their eyes open for Aslan," she said gently.

Nodding, Tumnus stepped outside. As soon as the door to the burrow had closed behind him, he took a deep breath. The cool breeze immediately hit him and ruffled his beard. His eyes took in the panorama around him and he regretted that there was not more time for him to fully enjoy it. Before heading for home, he decided that he would stop by Lucy's house and fulfill the promise he had made to himself prior to paying Mrs. Beaver a visit.

**Flashback End**

"So what do you think, Dr: Jenkins," Bob asked, thus breaking him out of his reverie.

Thomas slowly opened his eyes and smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, I guess I was lost in thought again. That has been happening a lot lately."

"I understand, sometimes daydreams are better than reality," the intern smiled but glanced down at the file. "What do you think about Ms. Pevensie's archery act?"

"I think she's starting to remember something that must have happened to her in the past," he offered.

"You mean what she is doing could have been real?" Bob asked.

"Well, let me ask you something. Have you ever picked up a bow and arrow?" Thomas asked as his gaze returned to the screen.

"No, can't say I have," the intern responded.

"Well she apparently has. Her stance is perfect, the way her arms are positioned is comparable to that of a professional. With a stance like that, she could probably win a contest against Robin Hood." Thomas said.

"You're serious?" Bob asked.

"Absolutely," he said as he got to his feet and positioned his arms in a similar stance. "You have to hold the bow a certain way to get the impact you want when you release the arrow. There are finite qualities in archery that one has to know, right down to the placement of the fingers on the bow. This is something that is imperative if one is to be successful."

"You mean; you know about stuff like that?" Bob asked.

"I learned a great deal when I was younger, my friend Oreius taught me. Some I've forgotten, though because of the time that has passed since I last picked up a bow," he said without thinking.

"Oreius? That's a very strange name. " Bob mused. "Where did you say you were from again?"

"My medical degree says I hail from Birmingham," he smiled weakly. "Right now though, I want to try and talk to Susan about this tape," he said as he left the room.

Bob was left staring after him. Eventually, he shook his head and stood up as well. "Oreius?" He muttered under his breath, but instead of reflecting further, he collected the materials they had used and returned them to the monitoring attendant.


	6. In Another Garden

_a/n: Thanks again to all my reviewers: MegastarMog, trecebo, JESSEK, fledge, lanthir1, xBakura'sLovex, and Just a little bit dramatic. I really appreciate your comments. I have finally managed to change it so that anonymous reviews are now accepted. It took long enough for me to get my rear in gear and fix that, but it should work now._

_This story is taking a little bit of a slower pace during this chapter, but I think that this part is rather significant to enhance the interactions between Thomas and Susan. It's the first time I have gone more extensive with a dialogue between these two characters and is thus something I feel is important in the overall flow of the story. It will pick up in the future chapters._

_Comments are greatly appreciated. _

* * *

**Chapter 5: In Another Garden**

Outside in the hallway, Thomas was making his way in the direction of the common room. It was closing in on five in the afternoon, and he estimated that Rachel would soon be escorting Susan back to her room. He took a deep breath as he saw a door at the end of the corridor suddenly open. He waited for several moments as the two women were walking back down the hall.

"Good evening, Rachel and Susan," he began, thus causing the two of them to stop walking and look up and into his gentle eyes.

"Hello, Dr. Jenkins," Rachel offered, but Susan remained silent. "How are you this evening?"

Thomas nodded. "I'm alright, but I was wondering might I have a few moments with you, Susan? There's something that I would really like to speak with you about and I figured that perhaps you might approve if we go outside and sit in the park. It is such a lovely day and I can imagine that you would be grateful for some time outside."

Contrary to her confusion about his inquiry, the patient's eyes brightened considerably. "Is that allowed?" Rachel asked. Her question unintentionally could have dashed Susan's hopes of getting outside, but Thomas merely shook his head. The change of seeing something other than white walls and furniture would be worth its weight in gold.

Without missing a beat, the doctor smiled. "Not to worry, Rachel, this hospital has a garden, albeit a rarely used one. I think it would do Susan a world of good to get outside and see the sun. She's been cooped up for far too long as it is."

Rachel nodded, her actions filled with understanding, "As you wish, Doctor, your word is law."

Thomas chuckled. "How grand that is," he smirked at her and she returned an unconvinced smile. "Not to worry, Rachel, if any problems happen to arise, then I'll take full responsibility." He looked at the young woman dressed in the white pants and t-shirt. "The real question is whether or not this suggestion meets with your approval, Susan?"

Susan nodded feebly and Rachel looked at the doctor. "Then I guess it is decided, when you are finished, perhaps you can bring her back to her room. I truly do not intend on raining on someone else's parade. I'm just trying to follow the rules and keep my head off the virtual chopping block."

Thomas nodded. "I understand, but really Rachel, I do not think that things will get that bad."

"True, Davenport is no longer here," Rachel mused more to herself than to him.

"If someone happens to come down on you for any reason whatsoever, then send them to me and I'll take care of it," he offered.

Relief washed across her face, but she nodded. "Then I guess it is decided. Enjoy the garden, Susan."

"Thank you," was all that emerged.

Thomas and Susan watched as Rachel distanced herself from them and walked slowly down the hall in the direction of the cafeteria.

Once they were alone, Thomas looked at Susan. "Shall we?" Without thinking, he offered his arm and she, not knowing what to do, stared at it with confusion. "My apologies, I don't know what I was thinking," he offered, his voice etched with nervousness. He smiled as soon as he realized what it was he had done. Seconds slowly ticked by, but before he could lower it once again, the young patient reached out and rested her hand on top of his offered arm.

"Well, let us be off, then," he offered in a friendly tone as she relaxed her hand against his arm.

As he led her down the hall, something else in her stance began to catch his attention. Instead of walking with insecure steps as she normally did, he stared as she raised her head and walked with the confidence of a queen. The doctor struggled to keep up with the young woman's steps. After a moment, she noticed this and slowed her pace to match his awkward movements. Several minutes later, they reached a door, he took the handle with his free hand, pressed it down, and the door swung open.

With majesty and confidence Susan Pevensie swept her way outside. Upon feeling the sunshine touching her face, she suddenly stopped, and her stance somehow changed once again.

"Is everything alright?" He asked as he followed her slowly towards the gazebo where some benches were placed.

"I think so," she said as she took in her surroundings, the color literally filling her as she turned around a few times in order to take in the colors that now surrounded her. This little taste of freedom had come as a surprise to the young woman, but she embraced it wholeheartedly. This alone made her feel a sense of joy that she had not felt in months.

She released the hold she had on his arm and sat down on the ground. As she folded her legs beneath her body, her flat palm began to run across everything that she came into contact with. She first touched the grass, then the earth, and then the wooden steps of the gazebo. She breathed in deeply and could smell the scents the nearby flowers that were growing. Their fragrance suddenly filling her nostrils and giving her a feeling that she was somehow sent to another place in another time. Everything around her seemed to have more color, life, and texture than she could remember ever having seen.

Thomas continued to watch her actions. Her overwhelming awe seemed to come about because she had been denied all those things since being brought into the sterile hospital environment. That newness alone made Susan Pevensie more like the child she had once been and less the woman she had become. He watched her for several long minutes and then sat down on the ground beside her.

"You like it?" He asked.

"Yes," she said softly. "It's small, but there's so much life here, did you ever notice it?" She regarded his somewhat skeptical face. Misinterpreting this, she continued to speak, her voice soft. "I suppose being free, you see this sort of thing every day and have learned to look beyond it."

"Perhaps, but I cannot see anything in the way that you do," he said.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean that I can only see clearly those things that I experience and know, but I cannot see what you experience," he said, as he took a deep breath and continued. "Susan, there's something I really would like to ask you. Is that alright?"

She said nothing; instead she shrugged her shoulders and waited for him to continue.

"Before I do ask, I wanted to clarify that there is no one monitoring you here. Whatever we decide to speak about won't go anywhere beyond this place," He said.

"Unless I say something really crazy and you decide to use it against me, right?" She asked, her voice critical and matter-of-fact. "How can I believe otherwise?" She asked, this time with an overwhelming sense of helplessness in her voice.

"You're going to have to take my word for it I suppose," he responded. "I know that it seems rather odd to you, but it's the truth. I did not bring you here with the intentions of putting you on the spot. I simply wanted to give you a chance to speak freely without being constantly monitored."

She said nothing; instead her attention was once more on the ground. She stroked the grass, but he could see that her hands were trembling somewhat and knew that she was afraid to say too much.

Eventually, he looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness. "You said earlier that you trust me, I would not do anything to damage that trust."

Susan thought for a moment and then nodded. "What do you want to know?"

"Bob told me that you were in the common room earlier today and something you did caught his eye," he explained. "Do you remember?"

"I ate some cheesecake and then Rachel wanted to take me back to my room," she answered casually.

Thomas took a deep breath. He knew that he would have to thread lightly with her. "Have you ever done any acting? It's like playing pretend, but one doesn't necessarily have to be a child to do so."

"Not that I recall, why?" she offered.

Thomas sighed; these answers were what he half expected to hear. As he continued to regard her, he could see something in her eyes made her entire stance seem dull and lifeless. He wanted so much to help her. At the same time, he was not quite sure how much he could do in the role of a psychiatrist that would help her. Perhaps Aslan should have sent him to be her friend and nothing more. At this moment, he had started to ponder whether or not this role of an authority figure was really a smart choice at all. He took a deep breath and rubbed his face as the wind continued to rustle around them. Susan's cropped hair began to blow softly in the breeze as well, and she closed her eyes as it wafted against her skin.

"Dr. Jenkins?" She spoke as her eyes opened.

He turned his head and looked at her. "Yes?"

"We aren't being monitored out here, are we?" She asked.

"No, not at all, in fact your file will stay closed until we return to your room," he promised. Although the file was still with him, it had remained closed since he had left the monitoring room. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "I do want to help you, just as I said on the first day."

She looked at him, her eyes filled with sadness. "You said that you wanted to help me find my way home," she whispered.

He nodded. "Yes."

"So you saw me stand up in the common room through the monitoring tapes and wanted to ask about it, right?" she offered.

"Yes, I did," he said with a slow nod. "Do you know why you did that?"

"No, not really," she whispered with a shake of her head.

"Have you ever used a bow and arrow before?" He asked abruptly.

"Yes, but it was a long time ago, I probably forgot how," she responded but he shook his head.

"No, you didn't, your stance and your poise with it was perfect," he said. "You could have won an archery contest through that alone."

"You know about archery?" She asked. "You don't strike me as the type who would."

"What type would that be?" He asked smiling.

"Oh I don't know," she offered and looked down at her hands. "Perfect stance, huh?"

"Yes, perfect, that could not have been a simple hallucination, Susan," he said. "Are you sure you don't remember anything about it?"

"Maybe a little, but I suppose sometimes people just forget things…" her voice trailed, but she looked at him. "…Don't they?"

"Not everything. For whatever reason, you have unconsciously retained the ability," he said smiling secretly, his eyes closing somewhat. His thought started to drift once again, but her voice abruptly broke into his thoughts and he opened his eyes.

"Not everything, huh?" she was saying, the sounds of her soft voice were filtering through the garden.

Thomas nodded as he bit down on his lip and nodded. "Susan, what else do you remember about the bow and arrow?"

"After I sat back down, Bob came over to me and started asking me what I was doing and why. I suddenly remembered where I was and how I didn't want to talk about it. The truth is, he would not have understood. Besides, other people have already decided that I'm crazy. I did not wish to give them even more reasons to follow that assumption."

"If you are not crazy, which I don't think you are, then tell me what you are?" He asked.

"I don't know," she whispered. "Perhaps what I am is something you seem completely unaware of."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean; I'm a prisoner, Dr. Jenkins," she said emotionally. "A captive in a world filled with evil." She cast a quick glance around where they were sitting and shook her head as she leaned over and began to whisper to him. "People like us don't belong here."

"Where do we belong then?" His almost immediate question emerged.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Anywhere, just not here."

He nodded, perhaps Susan was right and neither of them really belonged here. It suddenly became clear to him as to why it was Aslan had sent him to be a psychiatrist in the first place.

He looked at her. "I think you're right," he offered.


	7. Dreams and Regrets

_a/n: My sincere thanks go out to my reviewers who really have been wonderful about commenting on this story. I'm so grateful to you for your feedback on this story. Fledge, trecebo, save the pandas, xbakura's lovex, lanthir1, MegastarMog, and lovelotr. You all are so awesome._

_Just fyi, my account has been fixed so that I can accept anonymous reviews. My thanks to all of you who are reading this, and I hope you enjoy this. Reviews are love, and I am grateful for every last one I receive.

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**Chapter 6: Dreams and Regrets**

As Thomas returned Susan to her room about half an hour later, his thoughts were literally racing. "I'm glad we had a chance to talk," he said honestly, but his voice emerged somewhat rushed.

Susan sat down on the edge of the bed, but her gaze came to rest on the monitoring equipment that was placed over the door. She figured that this was probably why it was his stance had abruptly changed from one moment to the next.

"Thank you for letting me go outside, Dr. Jenkins," she said bravely. "It really was quite nice of you."

"We'll have to try it again sometime," he smiled as he tucked the file snugly under his arm and started to walk through the now open door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Susan."

"Good night," she said as he left the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

Once he was gone, she sat down on the bed, her back facing it and her arms wrapping snugly around her body. Purposefully, she kept her head lowered, her hands coming to rest against either side of her face. As she sat for several minutes in this stance, she could suddenly feel the tears as they started to fall from beneath her eyes. The trail of moisture left her face red and puffy.

Oh how she hated this place. She had confided some pretty intense things in this doctor, some of which left her surprised. She knew that she was now starting to trust Jenkins, but she did not know if he would use her trust to hurt her. Her impressions of psychiatrists in general were not all that positive anyway. Davenport had left her completely devastated and hurting. The abuse she had been subjected to was not forgotten even though Jenkins was a direct opposite to his predecessor. After all, regardless of how nice this man was, he still remained the jailer who kept her captive in this desolate place. His returning her to that dreadful room had reaffirmed that to her.

He insisted that he wanted to help her, but all she wanted from him was her freedom. Sure, she had something to gain in trusting him, but that still did not change her status as captive.

She stared sadly at the locked door as the realization of her state washed over her. She bit down on her lip, the teeth raking against the skin until she could taste the saltiness of her blood. She turned her head until she was facing away from the door and laid down on the bed, her face meshing against the pillow. After several seconds, she raised her head and stared down at the bright red flecks of blood that had smeared across the pillowcase.

Closing her eyes, she allowed the tears to fall, their moistness meshing with the redness of her lips. In this stance, stretched out on the bed, she allowed herself to softly cry against the pillow.

The minutes slowly ticked by as she drifted off to sleep, the dream returning her to the last time she and her sister had spoken. Or in this case, when they had their last row.

**Susan's Dream**

The shadows seemed to dance across the wall as Susan walked slowly down the hall in the direction of the room where she figured her sister would be sitting. Susan knew that Lucy had been located there so many times before that it would stand to reason that she would be found here yet again.

Generally, the youngest Pevensie would sit, her back pressed against the wardrobe door, her knees folded beneath her and her eyes staring longingly up at the latch. Either that, or she would be taking in the panels overhead, which extended throughout the rest of the nearly perfect A-frame ceiling.

Although she was completely put out with the incessant talk about the wardrobe, she knew that she would often find her siblings in this room. Their discussions would be centered on the possibilities of them getting back into Narnia. For this reason, Susan had somehow grown accustomed to her siblings coming back to this room.

Professor Kirke would sometimes join in, but generally, the old man would delight in egging them on by asking them questions about it. It was as though he believed it was a real holiday destination. As a result, Susan found herself reflecting on the level of Digory Kirke's sanity.

Although she would never dare to admit such a thing, she did remember Narnia. Sadly, however, her memories of the place were laced with sadness and rejection, while theirs always seemed to be filled with high adventure and excitement.

She released a pent up sigh, the whistling sound emerging between her pursed lips echoed throughout the otherwise tranquil place. The professor's house was quiet; of course it had to be, it was practically in the middle of nowhere. Yet, notwithstanding, it had, over the years become rather like a second home to the Pevensie siblings.

As she rounded a corner, she spoke. "Lucy, where are you?" She called out as she ran her hands down over the bright blue and beige colored dress she was wearing. No one answered, in fact, there seemed to be a dead silence permeating the house. She tried again. "Lucy?"

"I'm in here." The response suddenly filled Susan's ears as she walked several steps until she reached a large, heavy, old-fashioned, wooden door. This particular door led her into the spare room.

She pressed down on the door lever and opened the door. Inside, the room was the same as it had always been. Perpendicular to the door was a large window and along the far wall opposite the door, the wardrobe was placed. Lucy was sitting on the floor in front of it, her skirts bunched around her legs. Her hands were raised above her as though stretching, but Susan knew that she was reaching towards the latch with the intention of trying to open the wardrobe.

"Hello Su, what brings you to 'Spare Oom'?" Lucy asked with a light giggle as her sister released a pent up sigh. Ignoring this, the younger woman stood up and began to brush her hands down over the folds of her dark green dress.

Susan took a deep breath. "Do we have to go over this again? My name is Susan, not Su, and this is not 'Spare Oom' Lucy. Do you even know how juvenile that sounds?"

"Oh, so now you're the one who will decide what grown up is and what it isn't?" Lucy shot back challengingly as she started to parade around the room pompously. "Oh, I'm so grown up, because I can drink tea civilized and match such ghastly colors as bright blue and beige together." She smirked as she went over and nudged her sister. "Come on, do you know how utterly boring that sounds?"

Susan sighed, how she wished that her sister would grow up. "Have you considered taking my offer and letting me fix you up with Richard Rochester III?"

"Why? So I can hang around and watch him bet on horses and eat liquor filled chocolates?" Lucy sighed without suppressing her boredom. "Susan, all that dating and dressing up stuff is simply not for me. I've never turned the head of any guy in London and even today; I really have no desire to try. He probably can't even throw a dart properly."

Susan came over to the window and leaned up against the sill. "What are you doing in here?" She asked, this time opting to change the subject. There was really no point in trying to talk her sister into going on dates. Lucy seemed to be the only girl in England with an empty dance card.

"I just wanted some time alone to think is all," Lucy began to speak, her voice nostalgic. "Do you remember how the springtime blossoms would waft through the courtyard at Cair Paravel? The fragrance would fill our noses until we started to sneeze? I don't know why I started to think about that in the middle of autumn, but somehow I simply can't help it."

"Yes, and now you're doing it again," Susan complained.

"Doing what again?" Lucy asked.

"You're pretending that that place really exists," Susan snapped. "We've talked about this so many times, Lucy. It's like a fairy tale, there is no such thing."

"Perhaps, but I would say Narnia is a far cry more interesting than what you're doing," Lucy said.

"What am I doing?"

"Well, among other things, you're trying to act like Sigmund Freud and psychoanalyze me. Well my dear sister, I am not in need of your services. I do know what real is and what fantasy is. Now, if you don't believe in Narnia, that is fine, but don't try to force the issue on those of us who do."

"Narnia doesn't exist Lucy. It was just a game we played as children," Susan insisted. "I think it's something rather like a dream."

"No, I don't buy into that logic. It would be far too coincidental and easy for all of us to write it off as having had the very same dream." she looked up, her green eyes filled with sadness. "Besides that, even if you are right and was all a dream, then explain how we could have dreamt the very same things? We all met Tumnus and Oreius, so what if they really did exist? You were quite fond of Oreius if memory serves. He was rather kind and gentle, but he also became your friend and confidant. He taught you more about archery than you could have imagined." Lucy put her hands firmly on her hips. "So, Dr. Freud, I will not believe even for an instant that it was not real." As if for emphasis, she stuck her tongue out at her sister.

Susan looked at her sister. "Really, lady like," she scoffed as Lucy became serious and continued speaking.

"All those arguments aside, what if Aslan really does exist? I mean; you've been denying him all this time. If he's real, then how do you think he might feel?"

"He doesn't exist," Susan said, her voice etched in anger. "Besides that, even if he does, then need I remind you that Lions can't talk? I seriously think you need to grow up, Lucy."

"I am quite grown up," Lucy snapped. "I simply learned a long time ago that faith in something does not mean that one has ceased to become an adult. Do you even know what faith is, or have you forgotten when you started wearing evening gowns and playing with lipstick?"

"I didn't forget. Just because someone becomes an adult and develops other interests doesn't mean they forget about things like faith and loyalty," Susan said, her voice echoing throughout the room.

"Well, if you ask me, you seemed to have," Lucy shot back. "Part of what it means to have faith is that we accept the things we don't always understand. We both know that when we wake in the morning and crawl out of bed, that the floor will be beneath our feet. We trust that we will not fall into some sort of abyss. Faith and trust is not a juvenile game, Susan. I'm just as much a woman as you are, I just happen to still have my faith in Aslan intact."

Susan took a deep breath. "Why should we have faith in him? He was the one who decided that because of my physical state that I'm too old or mature for Narnia? He's the one who said it, Lucy, not me. He's the one who pulled both Peter and me aside and said that we would never get back to Narnia because of how old we are. So if you want to talk about faith and trust, then talk to someone else. After all, why should I feel any sense of loyalty towards him or Narnia if it was he who rejected me in the first place? It was he who decided everything, not me. If he hadn't have shoved me aside like an old shoe, then perhaps my loyalties would not have changed, but they did."

"I don't think he meant it that way…" Lucy started to speak, but her sister cut her off.

"…He didn't huh?" Susan wiped the tears from her eyes as she continued, her voice laced with hostility. "Lucy, Narnia is dead for me. I was cast out of it long ago because I became too old for it. You, Peter, and Ed may have something left there, but I don't. If hanging around someone who judges you based on your age makes you happy, then that's fine, but I can't pretend that it is real when it brings me nothing more than sadness and pain."

"You know, Aslan told me that I was too old too," Lucy mused. "Or have you forgotten?"

"I know he did, you said that after you and Ed got back from visiting Eustace," Susan whispered. "But how can Aslan even expect us to be loyal to something when he was the one who turned tail and left?" With that, she pushed herself away from the windowsill and started back towards the door.

"So I take it you will not be coming with us to meet Polly, Eustace and Jill tomorrow?" Lucy asked. "The train will be leaving at nine."

"No," Susan said as she turned back to face her sister. "Why should I if all you're going to be doing is talking about this load of rubbish? I simply want no part of it."

Lucy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Susan."

"No you're not," she shot back with a casual shake of her head. "You're just going to keep at it, talking endlessly about these stories and making yourself crazy with them."

"What are you talking about?" Lucy asked.

"Forget it," Susan grumbled. "It's already happened anyway."

"What has happened?"

"This wonderfully mastered plan to make me feel like an outcast in my own family because all you talk about is Narnia. Narnia is a fake; it's a childish game we played. Even if it was real, what is the point of it if it casts some out while others can stay in?"

"Is this why are you so angry every time I even mention Aslan's name?" Lucy asked.

"Aslan!" Susan shrieked as the light that permeated throughout the room abruptly vanished until Susan could feel herself being pulled with force into what appeared to be an indescribable darkness.

As the sounds of a rushing locomotive filled her ears, she suddenly was jolted and could make out the sounds of metal breaking like toothpicks. After several moments, she could hear the terrified cries of her siblings and friends. Soon the sounds faded and she was consumed with immeasurable silence. The last thing she remembered was the sound of a lion roaring in the distance…

**Susan's Dream End**

"Aslan," Susan's terrified voice suddenly echoed throughout the room and she bolted upright in bed. "Aslan…"

She gripped the blankets up to her neck and stared with wide eyes at the wardrobe that was situated on the other side of the small room. Suddenly, she could see that the light from outside had started to dance across the wall in a prism of light, she suddenly could see that the shapes of light had somehow taken on the form of a lion's head.

Not knowing what to do next, Susan Pevensie screamed.


	8. Paralleled Visions

_a/n: Welcome to the latest installment to this story. I wanted to take a moment and tell all you readers and reviewers out there that I really do appreciate your kind words, and the fact that you are reading this. I have been thoroughly enjoying writing this story, and there is much more to come. _

_Please, if you like it, review it. I really would like to know what your thoughts on this are. This chapter is longer than most, but I figured that since you've all been so patient about what happens next, that you would indulge me to putting a bit more into it than just three or so pages._

_I hope you all enjoy it, and I send out virtual cookies and chocolate bars to all reviewers._

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**Chapter 7: Paralleled Visions**

Time seemed to stand still as the terrified young woman stared helplessly at the wall where the images had emerged. She wrapped her arms around herself as the door abruptly swung open. Briefly, she raised her head to see that Thomas Jenkins was standing in the doorway.

The psychiatrist was dressed in a thick gray colored overcoat and appeared as though he was making ready to leave for the night. He carried his customary umbrella in one hand, and in the other, he held a dark brown colored briefcase. These items he quickly tossed against the wall, the umbrella falling over and hitting the ground. A clanging sound abruptly filled his ears, but ignoring it, he managed to make his way over towards the bed. There, he stood for several minutes, his sad eyes staring down at her.

Aslan, she had shouted Aslan, he thought as his heart beat loudly in his chest. Something deep inside of him told him that he should check on Susan before leaving for home and now he was glad that he had done just that. His inner voice had been accurate; the young woman's nightmares were getting worse.

He took a deep breath before seating himself next to her on the bed. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and started to shake her. "Susan, wake up," he commanded firmly as he stared into a pair of wide and petrified eyes. She closed them for a moment and then opened them again. It was as though he had woken her from a self-induced trance. "Whatever is the matter?" He eventually asked.

When she did not respond, he pulled her into his embrace as she began to whimper softly into his shoulder. As her weight fell against him, he began to rock her gently as though she was a small child instead of a grown woman. Beneath his touch, he could feel her body trembling uncontrollably. "Shhh," he managed after several seconds. "Everything is going to be all right, just tell me what happened."

"Aslan," she whimpered, her voice muffled.

"Who?" He asked knowing full well that she was starting to remember the mighty lion of Narnia. Thomas knew from experience that not all of her recollections would be positive. Some might actually be terrifying as well as intimidating.

Furthermore, he also knew that he still had to protect his true identity until Susan was ready to know the truth. If he were to come out and tell her everything he knew at the wrong time, then he could single handedly destroy everything. This was not the proper course of action. The steps must be slow and purposeful, he concluded as he took a deep breath and bit down on his lower lip. "What happened, Susan?" He eventually asked.

"I had a bad dream," she began.

"What sort of dream?"

"I-I don't really know, my sister was in it and we had…we had a row…" She shook her head as her voice trailed. "…Dr. Jenkins, something else happened and now I'm afraid."

"But you have nothing to be afraid of, you're safe here, Susan. I won't let anyone hurt you," he said. "What else do you remember?"

"Not very much, we had this row, and then I could suddenly hear the sounds of…of the train…and my sister screaming. She's dead, they're all dead!" Susan continued to tremble as she felt her head resting against his shoulder her breathing becoming more ragged. "It's all my fault."

"No, none of this was your fault. A person cannot die because one has a row with them. Susan, your sister and brothers died tragically, but you are not to blame for their passing. Anyone who has endured misfortune can attest to the pain that goes along with it," Thomas said but as he spoke, he moved his hand slowly until it was brushing through her short, cropped hair. "Tell me what else you dreamt."

Susan shook her head. "I can't, it hurts too much."

"I know, but Susan, you were screaming 'Aslan' as I came in here." When she shook her head in denial, he swallowed. "I know that this sounds rather harsh for me to say, but you're going to eventually have to talk about this. Please, tell me what troubles you, if for no other reason but to pacify those monitoring this room."

"I don't want to," she whispered.

"I know," he said with understanding in his voice. "But part of healing means that you must speak of the things that are difficult for you. Can you at least tell me who or what Aslan is?" He asked softly. "What do you remember?"

"Not very much. When my sister and I had that row, she mentioned his name and all I remembered was getting angry and saying that I hated him."

"Do you have any idea as to why you might hate him?" Thomas asked.

"I think because he rejected me," she began to weep softly as she once again pressed her face against his chest. "He said that I wasn't worthy."

"Did he now?" Thomas asked, not fully believing this, but trying to keep his words as diplomatic as possible.

"He told me that I would never be able to come back," she whispered and shook her head. "I spent the last years trying to forget everything about him that I could. It just hurt so much. When Lucy and I had that argument, it was because of him. She was trying to convince me that I misinterpreted his words, but she wasn't there and didn't see what happened. It was terrible, the moment when he looked at me and said that I would never be able to come back is one I'll never forget."

"Come back to where?" Thomas pressed.

"To some place or other," she offered with a shake of her head.

"When did he tell you this?"

"I-I don't really remember. I just know that when he said it, I thought my heart would surely break into thousands of pieces. I thought…he didn't love me anymore. Now my family is gone, and so it must be true…" She raised her head slowly and looked into the depths of his blue eyes. "…Dr. Jenkins, even if I one day am able to leave this hospital, I won't have anywhere to go. I have no home or family left."

He listened to her heartbreaking words and could feel the tears catching in his eyes. I had no idea, he thought sadly as he continued to stroke her hair gently. His thoughts unconsciously began to drift to the mighty lion and the situation Susan had described.

Did Aslan even know what he had done to her when he had told her these things? He could not fathom ever having someone tell him that he would be banned from his home. There must be a logical explanation for all of this.

He continued to comfort Susan until her sobs had subsided and she lay exhausted in his arms.

Within minutes she drifted off to sleep and he carefully laid her body back up against the pillow and tucked her under the covers.

He sat for several moments watching over her as she slept, his hand reaching over and brushing her hair out from in front of her face. As he did this, his thoughts once more began to drift.

**Flashback to Narnia**

From the river that extended along Beaver Dam, Tumnus followed the bank for a time knowing that it would eventually lead him back to Lucy's small house. As he walked, the kindly beaver's words seemed to filter through his mind. "All of Narnia mourns Queen Susan," she had said, the words tugging at him. It was true, he thought as the small cottage came into view. The she-beaver's words were probably truer than anything he could have said or heard.

As he came closer to the comfortable house, he stopped and stared at it for several moments. He could see Lucy's silhouette behind the curtains that covered the window. Periodically, he would see her shoving the soft, translucent fabric away in order to look outside. This stance was heartbreaking for the faun as it seemed so out of character for her.

He watched her for several minutes before coming closer. When he reached the front door, he tapped lightly on it and waited for her to answer.

When it finally did open, he found himself looking down into her tired face. "Hello dearest Lucy," he greeted her with a slight bow. This was more or less a nod of acknowledgement as opposed to a bow made to a queen.

"Tumnus," she smiled bravely and backed away from the door so that he could enter. "I wanted to apologize to you for my ghastly behavior earlier today. I was reminded of something rather sad as we were reading 'Oliver Twist' last night."

He nodded and slowly came into the house making sure to clomp his hooves against the ground before entering. The last thing he wanted to do was to drag dirt or grime into her generally neat and kempt house. As he entered however, the first thing he noticed was that the place looked to be in a state of disarray. On the dining table, dirty teacups and saucers were placed, as were plates of uneaten food. Without thinking of the repercussions of his actions, he immediately went over to the table and started to clear it away.

"You didn't come here to play my housekeeper, did you?" Lucy asked as she walked over to the table and sat down. As she did, her elbows came to rest against the hard surface and her flat palms were literally holding up her chin.

"No, but I wanted to see you," he said smiling. "Lucy, I know that we have been friends for many a year now, but I can tell, almost sense, that something is not quite right with you."

She looked up at him. "Perhaps it is not," she mused with a shrug of her shoulders. "But, it's not you, Tumnus. Please don't believe that for an instant. I just have a lot on my mind is all."

"What is it?" He asked softly, his gaze meeting hers. "You can tell me anything you like, perhaps I can help. Part of me figured that after we talked about our feelings for one another, things would get better. Yet, it appears as though they have not. You're troubled by something and although I have an idea of what it could possibly be, but I am here if you want to talk about it."

Lucy shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her hands. "I'm just not quite myself right now is all."

"Is this because of something that I have done?" He asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

"No, my dearest faun, it's not you, it never was," she smiled weakly at him as she reached across the table, took his hand in hers, and squeezed it. "I can't really say for certain what is the matter. I just remember how Aslan had said that when we were reunited that my memories of that other place and other people would, in time, disappear. I hoped and figured that everything would be all right after that. I would simply be able to forget my life in Spare Oom, but I can't. The books and other things that we read and study will not let me forget."

"Shall we stop reading them then?" He asked. "Perhaps that might help."

"No," Lucy whispered. "These times with you are my favorite, the nights when we sit together reading is something that I wouldn't trade for anything."

"Then I must ask if you would ever consider or wish to go back."

Lucy shook her head adamantly. "No, but I would have liked it if Susan could be here. I wish that she had not been so difficult and so determined to forget about Narnia. The last time I saw her, we had this terrible row. I tried to remind her of the times when we would go on hunts with Peter and Edmund. I wanted her to recall how she had shown me how to use the bow and arrow or how Oreius had taught her to better her aim. She had once been an archery expert and a queen, but somehow she had forgotten," Lucy lowered her head. "She's convinced herself that Narnia is not real and argued that I ought to grow up and start acting like an adult. I told her that I could not deny the memories of Narnia, just because I had changed. I wanted her to understand how hard it was for me to let go of something that had become such a terribly important part of me."

"Generally Narnia becomes an intricate part of everyone who comes here," he said with a slow nod. "Perhaps the memories she has of it are buried so deeply within her spirit that she has forgotten of their existence."

"That's what I thought too, but then we had that row, and she told me that Aslan had hurt her when he said that she could not return. She said that it hurt her, but instead of talking about these feelings, she concealed them," Lucy said, her voice rising in intensity. After some moments had passed, she lowered her head once again. "Tumnus, is not possible for someone who has lost their faith in something to find it again? I mean; those five or so years between the trip on the Dawn Treader, and my final journey into Narnia brought about so many changes. I was a girl going from childhood to adulthood in what felt like seconds. It was hard, and I almost forgot everything. If it weren't for Edmund and Peter, I probably would have. I just keep asking myself why Susan should be punished because she forgot or got hurt?"

"I don't think Aslan intended to set out and punish or hurt her, Lucy," he said diplomatically.

"Perhaps not, but that's what happened," Lucy said. "I just think that if she did forget everything about Narnia, then perhaps someone should go back and remind her, someone she knows," she said softly. "I'd go back if I was given the chance."

"You cannot go back, I think you know that," Tumnus said gently as he reached over and took her hand.

"Why not?" Lucy asked stubbornly. "She's my sister."

"Yes, and to her you are dead, dearest," Tumnus said bluntly as Lucy's face went a ghostly white.

"Must you always remind me of that?" She snapped without thinking of the repercussions of her words.

"That's not it," he said as he held up his hands in negation. "You don't understand. If you showed up in her life now, you may turn everything completely upside down for her. To her, you are no longer alive in Spare Oom; you are a memory; like a shadow of her past. I must conclude that whoever goes there, it would have to be someone that she knows. Someone who has experienced Narnia and can remind her of it."

"Reepicheep could go, or perhaps even Caspian?" Lucy asked aloud as she tried to remember which of their Narnian friends Susan had met.

"Perhaps, but you forget that it could very well be one of the beavers, Fox, Oreius, or even me," Tumnus said. "We don't know who Aslan would send or if he were to even agree with such a proposal. We simply do not know what he would decide. It is during moments such as these that you must remember that you are 'Queen Lucy the Valiant' and as such, you must be strong."

"Tumnus, I cannot be valiant, strong or anything else if you were to leave," she whispered, her grip to his hand tightening. "I have already lost my sister, I don't know what I would do if I were to lose you as well."

"Perhaps we ought to cross that river when or if we happen to come upon it. I have sent Fox to search for Aslan, and hopefully in the coming days he will arrive back here and then can tell us what we ought to do. I would, of course willingly volunteer if it meant that you would be happy again."

She looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his blue ones. "That's so beautiful," she whispered. "It's like when you told me that you loved me. I guess up to this moment, I didn't realize just how much."

He smiled and nodded. "Sometimes the grandest act of love will not always be manifested in a kiss or an embrace, but true love can also shine through in the sacrifices one makes for another."

"Like what Aslan did at the Stone Table for Edmund?" she whispered.

He nodded. "Of all the sacrifices that have ever existed in Narnia as well as in other worlds, the surrendering of one's life to save another is the most touching and glorious that could exist. Aslan's deep love for King Edmund enabled all of us to find forgiveness. Perhaps that is what Queen Susan truly needs."

Lucy looked into the eyes of her friend. "I've never heard you talk like that before," she whispered. "It's beautiful, but it's also kind of scary. I don't want you to become the necessary sacrifice, Tumnus. I love you too much to just let you go like this."

"Yes, but remember this my dear, love is not always going to be measured strictly by how much you are loved, but also by how much you love. Sometimes love is not measured simple actions, but in the willingness to let go," he said as he patted her hand.

She looked at him. "Perhaps that is true, but have you ever been afraid to do that?"

"Yes, I was afraid to do just that all those years ago when you were just a child," he said softly. "I had to let you go so that you would be safe."

She lowered her head. "That's part of the problem."

"I'm not sure I follow," he said.

"I have had the most dreadful feelings for the last few days," she admitted. "Several nights ago I started having dreams. In one, we were target practicing, but then in another, we had that row. The most recent one was when I saw white everywhere. It was like snow until I realized that I was inside a dwelling of some kind. I could see just the walls, they looked like stone, and it felt as though they were closing in around me. Tumnus, I woke up in a panic and my hands were trembling violently. For whatever reason, I reached the conclusion that Susan must be in terrible danger and these dreams were signs of something dreadful."

"Danger?" Tumnus whispered. "Signs?"

"Yes," she admitted looking into the faun's concerned eyes. "Do you remember how Narnia used to be cold and empty? You described the coldness of the witch's dungeon to me and suddenly I realized that in the dream, I was there and experiencing it myself. I was seeing this horrible place. Instead of seeing icicles and the things depicting a winter's day, I was seeing stones and rocks all around me. They were white, as though covered with snow. I was standing amongst them and suddenly I had this feeling that I was seeing diagrams forming on the walls. One melted away and I could see Aslan's likeness. Seconds later, I was staring into the eyes of my sister. It was as though she had been turned to stone. I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them again, I could see stone squares. They looked rather like large, white ice cubes. I reached out to touch one and my finger stuck to it as though it had been cemented into place. I suddenly found myself a prisoner there."

The faun nodded as she continued. "Tumnus, I know that this sort of reminds you of what happened after our first trip into Narnia, but that's what it felt like. I thought I was surrounded by ice. Eventually I woke up screaming Aslan's name and was breathing heavily. What scared me the most was that I had never had nightmares in Narnia before, but now I am and they aren't stopping."

"Is that why you left my cave so quickly this morning?" He asked.

"Yes," she said anxiously. "I woke up this morning after having yet another horrible dream. It was the train wreck. I could hear the sounds of broken metal and then people were screaming. Finally I heard the sound of a lion roaring. I thought it was Aslan, but then the images faded and everything around me had changed somehow."

Tumnus nodded as she continued to speak, her voice trembling. "I'm afraid, Tumnus," she whispered, "so dreadfully afraid."

In response to this, all he could do was to stand up, walk around the table, and wrap her gently in his arms.

**Flashback End**

Seconds later, Thomas opened his eyes. I must have drifted off, he thought, his focus once more on Susan. Her face was contorted in such a way that indicated someone who was trying to peacefully sleep but seemed to be failing miserably.

There were so many parallels to the two of them, he thought sadly. Both Susan and Lucy were connected in ways that seemed almost uncanny. He had spoken with each one of them and it was as though the dialogues were nearly the same.

Sighing, he raked his teeth over his lower lip. Aslan is the link in all of this, he thought as he deliberately managed to reach the door and began to retrieve his belongings. As he picked up the briefcase and the umbrella, he cast a quick glance back towards the woman sleeping on the bed. As he shook his head and reached out to open the door. A voice filled the room, thus taking him aback.

"Yes, the bond is still there."


	9. Remembering

_Dear Readers,_

_My absolute and sincerest thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Before I post this next chapter (which is coming much quicker than I thought), I would like to sit down and try to respond to specific points that have been made. Since a lot of people probably have read the reviews, I figured that it would be wise for me to respond publicly to these questions._

_fledge: My experiences with psychology are rather personal and I would rather not go into them here, but I can tell you that I did have my experiences with it. I've also spoken to number of professionals in my life and generally have a working idea as to what happens during therapy and treatment sessions. I guess overdosing on the show 'Growing Pains' during my childhood also helped me with that as well. I also had a few classes in Psychology as well as Sociology when I was in college._

_trecebo: Although the time space elements are really fascinating for me, I'm just trying to wrap my brain around telling a decent story. Actually, I may embark on that element because I've been reading this book about the afterlife and how time doesn't really exist in it and the philosophies behind it are totally fascinating._

_lanthir1: More back story will come in the next chapters, I'm trying really hard to parallel the Narnia and the London scenes. I am going to most definitely bring everyone up to date on the 'how's?' and 'why's?' Tumnus took this little assignment on. It just may not be as quick as one might like. Just be patient, that part will be brought into the story and you will find out how everything happened._

_Moi: The bringing of Peter and Edmund into the story wasn't really planned in a first person sense, but where I'm working now is in tuned with your suggestion of having them in the story. I will be bringing them directly into the story. This means basically I will be referring back to 'The Last Battle' and the words that were said by the various characters during that scene right after the train accident. Through this, I will try to bring in Peter and Edmund's thoughts about the situation through my interpretations of their words in the book._

_As I said at the top of this, thank you all for your reviews and encouraging words. It is all greatly appreciated. Enjoy the latest chapter!

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_

**Chapter 8: Remembering**

Thomas abruptly turned around as the friendly, familiar, but also strange sounding voice seemed to resonate in his ears. At the same precise instant, he drew his umbrella before him as a means of protection. During this time, he dropped the briefcase, the object opening as it hit the floor and papers scattering all about. Scrambling, he clumsily dropped the umbrella as he attempted without success to collect them. As the voice emerged once again, he raised his head.

"Hello, Son of the Forest."

His eyes widened and his mouth fell agape. "Aslan?" He whispered as he started to frantically search the room for some physical incarnation. Finding nothing, he realized that he was alone and perhaps had been hearing things. He continued to look frantically around the room, but stopped and stared in the direction of where he thought the voice had originated.

"Where are you?" He eventually managed, his voice cracking as he licked his dry lips. His back was now to the door and he stood staring blankly at the wall just beneath the window. To the right of the window, Susan was still sleeping. He took a deep breath, all the while forgetting that the room was still being monitored. He stared at the lights as they continued to dance across the wall. "I mean; I can hear you, but I can't see you."

"Look at the wall to the right of the wardrobe, it was this likeness that frightened her initially," the voice continued and he turned and gasped when he saw the lion's head sculpted into the stone wall. "I've been here listening since you took Susan's case, my dear Tumnus," he said.

Thomas forgetting about the files stepped closer to the wall and extended his hand in order to touch the lion's head. He took a deep breath and shook his head as he somehow could feel the piercing stare of the lion's eyes on him.

He smiled, his face flushing slightly upon hearing his given name for the first time in what felt like years. "I had almost forgotten how wonderful it sounded to actually hear someone call me by my name," he offered freely as he lowered his hands.

"Yes, I know," came the simple response.

"Aslan, I am glad you're here because I am running out of ideas on how to help her remember you and Narnia," he began, his voice rushed. "I fear that I have somehow started to forget myself, and that's not good."

"No, you have always remembered the events that ultimately brought you here," Aslan responded. "Your memories of Narnia while living in this world you call 'Spare Oom' have always been intact, Tumnus. You could always return to them anytime you wish. Today, these remembrances will help you bring Susan Pevensie home. But, I must request upon you to keep a watchful eye, as there exists another who can learn great things from you."

"Another?" He raised his head. "I thought I was only here for Susan."

"No, there is another Daughter of Eve, whom you must trust. Just know that when the time is right, she will help you. I cannot tell you more than that, but you will know very soon who it is that has been chosen," Aslan explained. "Keep your eyes open, my noble friend."

"I will, but I still have a question."

"What might that be?" Aslan asked.

"Even if I do manage to get Susan out of here, how will we find our way back into Narnia?" He asked.

"Time has a remarkable way of providing answers. Right now, you need a little help on this side of the metaphorical 'wall'. You shall receive that help and very soon."

"I don't understand," Thomas whispered as the images began to fade. "No, Aslan, don't go," he pleaded, but the lion's head had disappeared and he was now alone. He took a deep breath, but turned away from the wall and continued to gather the files that were scattered across the floor. As soon as he had completed the task, he took a moment to look back over at the wall, hoping against hope that Aslan would still be with him. When his gaze came to rest on the smooth wall, he sighed as he reached for his umbrella. Finding the object, he used it as a means to push himself back to his feet.

That had been the first contact he had had with Narnia in a long time and he was extremely grateful for it. I fear I might have started to forget Narnia, he thought. I ponder if my life there has become some sort of vague memory. Perhaps that is what Lucy meant when she spoke of Aslan's promise.

"You won't forget Narnia, Tumnus," the voice once more emerged as though the noble lion had been reading his mind all along. This time he nodded confidently as he reached out and opened the door. As he stepped through it and had pulled it closed behind him, the bright lights of the hallway nearly blinded him. He stepped out into the corridor and quietly closed the door. Once his eyes had adjusted to the light, his breath caught in his throat.

"Rachel, my goodness, you startled me," he gasped as the intern backed away from him. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I'm sorry Dr. Jenkins," she said as she continued to study his face. "Are you alright? You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"Oh, uh, yes…no…I-I mean…I'm fine," he smiled almost timidly at her.

"Is Susan alright?" She asked; her voice laced with concern. She cast a fleeting glance towards the door leading into Susan's cell.

"I think so, she just had a bad dream," he offered, but eventually he looked at her. "Rachel, is something the matter?"

She shook her head as she looked into the eyes of the psychiatrist. "I'm alright, but Dr. Jenkins, from the monitoring station, I could make out some rather strange things. I mean; after you and she spoke and she went to sleep, something else happened."

"Did you hear anything I might have said?" He asked.

"No not really, you spoke rather softly, it was as though you were trying to keep others from overhearing you," she said. "Somehow I think I know what all of this is about. She is starting to remember more and more things from her past. I seem to recall her speaking of someone she called Aslan," she said.

"How could you possibly know about that?" He asked, his voice emerging as a sudden and uncharacteristically sharp command.

"Before you came here and took her case, I remember sometimes monitoring her from the station. She would cry out in her sleep and mumble the name 'Aslan'. I recently discovered that 'Aslan' is the Turkish word for 'lion'. I figured that perhaps she had learned some Turkish words and was using this as a way to commit them to memory. It's strange, but for the life of me I could not figure out why she was doing this. That was the only word she was using."

Thomas looked at her, his eyes intent. "Does anyone else know about your observations?"

"No, just Bob, but that's only because he's seen Susan do some rather strange things as well," Rachel rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Dr. Jenkins, there is so much about all of this that doesn't make any sense."

"May I ask you something that should be kept strictly off the record?" He asked as they reached his office. With trembling fingers, he unlocked the door.

"What?" She asked as he ushered her inside and the door was closed behind them.

As soon as they were alone, he tossed the briefcase on the desk and looked at her as she sat down. "You seem to have gotten to know Susan Pevensie rather well. I was just wondering if you think she should be considered 'code brown'."

"You're asking me if I think she's crazy?" She looked skeptically at him. "You're the psychiatrist here, not me, I'm just some crummy intern."

"Rachel, Susan's fate is in my hands, yes, but you're around her more often than I am. You escort her to the recreation room, you have observed her, you know what she eats, and you have become like a friend to her. She hasn't very many friends left and I fear that all that is left for her are memories."

Rachel nodded as she raised her head. "Dr. Jenkins, I don't think she's crazy and I don't believe for an instant that she should be 'code brown'. She's had some hard luck in her life, losing her family and all. I heard tell that after her family died, she pretty much lost every friend she had. She needed them, and what did they do? They made her look as though she was crazy and then found a way to send her here."

"You know how she became a patient here?" He asked.

"Of course, I know," Rachel said bitterly. "You have the files that determine her case and what level she is psychologically, but I know more than just that. I had seen her in town before she had been sent here."

"You do, I mean; you did?" He asked. "Will you tell me?"

"If it helps Susan, then yes, but if it is another feather in your psychiatric cap, then no," she said bitingly.

"It's not. My intentions are to help her too, and for what it is worth, I don't think she's crazy," he said.

"You don't?"

"No, I don't," he responded with an adamant shake of his head. "Rachel, my intentions are to help, but I can't if people who work here keep secrets from me, especially when it comes to Susan's well being. We're on the same side here, you know."

She took a deep breath and released it as a pent up sigh. "OK, but I don't want to talk about this here. I feel a bit nervous talking about anything of importance in this place. It is as though I always have someone watching over my shoulder."

"Then we'll go somewhere else," he said. "But, before we go anywhere, I need to know what you saw in Susan's room just now."

Rachel took a deep breath. "After you spoke with her and she fell asleep, I watched you. You were literally spinning around the room as though looking for something. The files fell from your briefcase and were scattered across the floor. Then, a few seconds later, you hit the floor. It was eerie, as though you were talking to someone. Susan was asleep and did not seem to hear or acknowledge anything, but I could tell that something really bizarre was happening. After watching for several minutes, I got up and came to find you because I wanted to know what was going on."

"Did you happen to hear another voice when you were watching?" He asked without thinking of the implications of his question.

"Another voice?" She asked skeptically. "Dr. Jenkins, I'm an intern in a psychiatric hospital, not a patient. I don't hear voices, and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't be admitting it to anyone. I don't want to end up a patient here myself."

He smiled despite himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the defensive with that," he said and stood up. "I just needed to find out what happened just now."

"Why?" She asked. "You should know; you were there."

"I know, but I still need to go and review the tape," he said honestly. "I can't explain why specifically, it's just a feeling I have."

"You're going to do that now?" She asked.

"Yes, if I don't, then I won't sleep all night," he admitted. "Do you want to come with me?"

"My shift just ended," she said casually. She did not admit to him, but she had a strange sense of intrigue with this man. He was different than any doctor she had ever known. She got to her feet and began to follow him out of the office.

As they came down the hallway, she eventually found the courage and looked at him. "Dr. Jenkins, before you look at that video, I just wanted to tell you that I read a book once about a psychiatrist who used these same sorts of verbal dialogue in order to help their patients."

"You are afraid that others who see it will think I'm crazy?" He asked as his eyebrows arched.

"They might," she whispered. "Just don't be surprised by it. When you see the tape, I think you'll understand."

He nodded as they reached the monitoring station, he requested the tape, and waited for the attendant to bring it to him. Once he had it, he took it down a hallway and into an empty room. Rachel followed and once inside the room, she went over and sat down at the table and watched as he set it up.

Resting her elbows on the table, she leaned forward, rested her chin against the flat palm of her hands, and listened.

After several moments, she raised her head, reached over, and abruptly stopped the tape. "Dr. Jenkins, what is going on?" She demanded her voice beginning to tremble.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"What I mean is, who is that talking to you?" She asked. "Look, I know I'm perfectly sane, but when I was watching all of this play out earlier, I could only make your words. Now I'm hearing two distinctive voices. This isn't someone talking to himself; this is a conversation. I'm hearing you speak and this other voice answer, but there's no one else in the room. Susan is sleeping." She looked at him through shocked eyes as she lowered her hands and wrapped her arms around herself. "What is going on here?" She asked as she backed her way up against the chair back.

He raised his head and looked at her. "Rachel, there is something that I must explain to you, but I don't know where to start. I am not sure if you'll even believe what I have to say. Sometimes such explanations can be rather hard to believe."

"Just tell me the truth, nothing makes sense anymore," she said.

"When I was sitting with Susan earlier tonight, I realized that I cannot do all of this alone. As crazy as it may sound to you, I need your help," he said.

"My help? How can I help you? I don't understand," she whispered. "Am I cracking up? Is that what all of this is about?"

"No, but we do need to talk, and I need to confide something extremely important in you," he said. "Something that will explain what you heard just now. I know I can trust you to keep these things to yourself. I know that trust is not only needed between doctors and patients, but between people in general. I want to tell you everything, but I must ask you to trust me?"

Rachel nodded slowly. "Where should we go then?" She asked as she stood up and nervously, she reached for the tape. "I-I'll return this for you," she offered, her voice trembling as she grabbed the object and quickly left the room. For several seconds, he sat alone in the room and waited.

Is this what Aslan meant? He asked himself. Is Rachel the one he mentioned? Is she the one I am supposed to confide all of this in?

He shook his head sadly not fully knowing what to do next, but lowered his head sadly. Aslan said I would know soon, but perhaps her having actually heard the lion's voice was all the proof that he really needed.


	10. A Family Meeting

_I'm loving the reviews, and I thank you all for your lovely thoughts and suggestions. This chapter was inspired by 'Moi', who suggested to me that I write some background with the other Pevensies. I thought it held a lot of merit, so I wrote it into the story, and I think it is a good 'in between' chapter. Hopefully you will all think so as well. _

_This chapter is entirely set in flashback unlike the past ones which showed the London parallels. The next chapters will ultimately return us to London. Hopefully if there is a problem with following the action, Thomas is still sitting in the monitoring station and Rachel has gone to return the equipment. So everything that comes into this chapter is a continuation of his memories._

_Now for some comments on the specific reviews:_

_fledge: The monitoring equipment notations were a bit hard to change since they have such an important role in the progression of this story. I actually thought of this as I was writing chapter 7 (or was it 8?). At any rate, the reason that I used it was because it helped Thomas to come into Susan's world a bit easier. It was also a handy tool to introduce other characters to the story. I am going to take your comments into consideration in future chapters and actually will explain the presence of this equipment then. I really want to convey why it's there, and how sometimes things of this nature can have a positive impact as opposed to just a negative one. But, as I said, all that comes later._

_MegastarMog & Save the Pandas: Rachel will be getting a bit more screen time (so to speak). I have really started to like her character (and my best friend's name is Rachel, so it works). At any rate, she will develop as a character and I have something planned for her as well as Bob. No, they are not going to have a romance with each other, but their characterizations are rather important in the story._

_trecebo: You know me and my writing too well._

_Reviews are love. I am seeing a lot of folks reading, but would really love to hear what you all think. Please review it because it's such a nice thing to do._

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Chapter 9: A Family Meeting **

**Flashback to Narnia**

Lucy's despondency seemed to grow from day to day. Fox had managed to find Aslan and sent word through Hedgehog that he would be returning within the coming days. As word reached Cair Paravel and High King Peter, a mixture of disbelief and sadness seemed to wash over him. He, in turn, sent word to Edmund and the two brothers arranged to meet Lucy and the faun at her house in Lantern Waste.

On the day that Peter and Edmund were due to arrive, Lucy had awoken to hear the sounds of Tumnus' knocking at her door. For whatever reason, she figured that it would be her brothers standing outside. She swallowed as she answered the door, her face lighting up when she saw the faun's shining eyes staring into her own.

"Hi," she offered shyly as she ran her hands down the front of her night dress. "I've been trying to get things ready," she said as a greeting.

"I see," he said smiling at her. He could tell almost instinctively that she was not doing well. Her face was drawn and her eyes seemed to emanate the extent of her worry. She reached out and embraced him, a kiss she planted on his cheek. As she drew back away from him, he spoke. "Lucy, how are you feeling?"

"If you must know, I'm quite exhausted," she answered through a yawn.

"Did you have another nightmare?" He asked.

"No, but it was because I didn't sleep at all. I kept thinking about Peter's message and how he and Edmund were due here today to talk to us. I don't really know how I feel about then coming. Peter seemed to be always so willing to put his thoughts into my words. What I mean is, because he's the oldest, his perceptions and ideas seem to harbor more validity than my own. I think he feels as though he has been granted the rights to do so by Aslan himself."

"You resent this?" Tumnus asked as they came over to the sofa. He carefully seated himself as she literally collapsed onto it, her body wavering like a piece of fabric as it drifts to the ground. The faun thought that it was the most graceful movement, but it also seemed so terribly uncharacteristic of the valiant Narnian queen.

"Yes, in some ways I guess I do. Peter was the one who told King Tirian that Susan wasn't loyal to Narnia anymore. He said it right after we had returned to the shadow lands for the last time," Lucy said. "Of course at the time I kind of agreed with him. That was probably because I was still so angry with Susan because of that row we had. As time passed, I started to resent his arrogance about it. He seems to have taken on an almost authoritarian stance when it comes to the things he doesn't like. Several nights ago I was thinking about how Susan and I were together when Aslan was killed by the white witch and how she and I had cried over his body."

"I think Aslan remembers that," he said.

Lucy looked down at her clothing at that moment. "I should probably get dressed. I have no idea when Peter and Edmund are due to arrive, but it would not be good for me to be dressed in this way. I'll be right back." She slowly got to her feet and left the room.

Five minutes later, she returned, her hands pulling her dark brown hair back into a ponytail. She looked at him. "Do I look alright?" She asked, her voice void of any energy.

"You look lovely, my queen," Tumnus stood up ceremoniously and extended his hand to her as someone tapped lightly on the door.

Lucy took a deep breath, her gaze coming to rest on the door. "That must be them," she whispered as she cast a quick glance around the room to make sure that everything was properly in place. Once she had made sure it was acceptable for guests, she padded her way slowly towards it. She did not know why she was putting so much effort into this when her heart was clearly not into it.

Eventually she stopped, turned around, and looked at Tumnus. "What am I supposed to say to them?"

"You'll know when the time is right," he said softly and Lucy nodded before opening the door.

Standing at the threshold was Peter, looking grown up and majestic in his royal robes. His hair, a dark blond had grown down to his shoulders and was actually not as curly as she remembered it. The soft hair touched lightly against his shoulders, but seemed to peer out from a hooded cloak he wore. A beard covered his chiseled chin and he smiled warmly at his youngest sister as he lowered the hood and allowed it to fall down over the back of his clothing. Unlike his usual attire, his head was void of the golden crown he usually wore.

Edmund stood several steps behind his older brother. Like Peter, he wore no crown, but his clothing seemed a bit more casual than Peter's. His black riding pants and white renaissance shirt seemed to go perfectly with the overall sporty look that emanated him. His long coal black hair was pulled back and bound with a small sash. His youthful face was filled with worry as he regarded his sister, but when he spoke, his deep voice was filled with gentility. "Good morning, Lucy," he offered as he bowed his head down once before making eye contact with her. This simple acknowledgement was returned as she backed slowly away from the door so as to allow them access to her house.

"Hello Peter, Edmund. Won't you please come in?" She offered cordially.

The two of them made their way into the house and went over to the sofa where the faun sat. Once the two of them had exchanged greetings with him, they all sat down.

"I guess you're both wondering why I sent word to you," Lucy began. "There's something I need to tell both of you." As these words emerged, she was surprised at how they seemed to be filled with official and formal undertones.

"What is it?" Peter asked. "Have you both decided to wed or something?" He smiled impishly as a small chuckle almost escaped him.

"No, Your Majesty," Tumnus eventually managed to stammer, the High King's question literally throwing him. The faun's face had gone from a pale beige color to bright red in a matter of seconds. "It is something else. Please do allow your sister to speak without interruption."

"This sounds serious," Edmund said as he leaned casually back against the sofa's cushions and waited. Instead of Tumnus speaking, the response came from Lucy.

"I think it is," she began as she looked at her eldest brother. "Peter, it's about Susan."

As if on cue, his face abruptly darkened and unconsciously, she cast a sideways glance in Edmund's direction. A look of contemplation seemed to emanate the younger of the two brothers. This alone propelled her to continue. "Through Fox and Hedgehog, Tumnus has managed to send word to Aslan to come back to Narnia. We need him to help us find Susan and bring her home."

"Why?" Peter asked as he stood up, his fist coming down on the small coffee table that was in front of the sofa. The impact from this action made them all unconsciously jump. "I have already said that she is no longer loyal to Narnia, Lu. What more must I say to get you to stop pushing the issue?"

"What more must you say?" Lucy asked indignantly. "You are the one who made the decision for all of us, Peter." She abruptly stood up, all the while leaning over and looked meaningfully at her brother. "You have done an awful lot of deciding for us about how we are supposed to feel about Susan, haven't you? Yet, you seem to have forgotten that she's my sister and I love her."

"Well, she's our sister too," Edmund raised his head and looked at her. He remained seated, but could feel an almost an overwhelming urge to stand up as well. Ignoring it, he inhaled sharply and waited for Lucy to continue.

"I know that Ed, but you both have each other, I don't have anyone like that. Just hear me out, alright?"

"Sure," the eldest of the siblings conceded. He sat back down, but his fists were still balled together, his fingernails digging against the palms of his hands.

"You and Ed are as close as two brothers can be and I'm happy for you both. You make time amidst your other obligations to go on hunts together, spend time, and have long talks with one another. I don't fit into that world anymore because I grew up. Perhaps I may have been thrilled by it when I was younger, but today, I realize that my interests have changed. When we were living in that other place, Susan's interests changed as well. I did not realize to what extent until I came here and suddenly recognized that the same thing was happening with me. The point is, I really need my sister in my life. I need to feel and know conclusively that I am not the fifth wheel on the wagon. I still want to spend time with you, but right now, I don't feel as though I belong."

"We understand that, Lu, but Susan said that Narnia doesn't exist for her anymore. This is a far cry more drastic than you feeling like a fifth wheel," he said as his hands relaxed.

Lucy took a deep breath. "My interests changed just like hers did. Maybe this isn't so much about Susan becoming someone you don't like, but maybe it's proof positive that everyone deserves a second chance."

"This is not about her being someone I don't like," Peter shot back. "But think about this before you charge into battle. Just because you want her in your life doesn't mean that it will automatically happen. Use your logic Lu, Susan didn't show any interest in you when we were living in that other place. You were her little sister, and she neglected you. She didn't just lose her faith in Narnia, she changed, and not for the better."

"Just because you think Susan has lost her faith in Narnia doesn't mean that she has. Peter, do you remember how you felt right after Aslan told you that you couldn't come back? It was right after we had helped Caspian become king. You were moping about for months on end saying that Aslan and everyone there was being unfair to you. You were mad at Edmund and me because he didn't say those words to us at that time. You kept saying 'I am the High King of Narnia, and should be able to come here whenever I please'. You were very upset about these things. Is it not possible for Susan to feel that way as well? She always dealt with things through Mother's logic. Maybe in hindsight, we were all a bit too quick to judge her based solely on her reactions."

"I think she's right," Edmund spoke up. "We did say a lot of really horrible things about Susan since the train wreck happened. If there is one thing that I have learned through Narnia and Aslan; everyone is worthy of forgiveness and redemption, especially people like Susan."

Peter looked at Lucy. "I don't know how this will help matters, though. Just tell me one thing, what brought all this on? You were so happy right after we came here."

"I know," Lucy nodded sadly. "Don't get me wrong, I am happy in Narnia, Peter, but the truth is, I've been thinking about Susan a great deal. Tumnus and I have spoken of my feelings but the impressions I have about all of this are getting worse. I think she's in some kind of trouble. I can't really put it into words, but its like I am getting messages as though she and I are linked somehow."

Edmund looked at Tumnus. "You've been trying to help her come to terms with all of this, haven't you? I mean; she has confided all these troubles in you, correct?"

"Yes," the faun whispered. "Your Majesties, I do care very deeply for Lucy, as her happiness is important to me. I have also been trying to calculate a way in which we can help resolve this. The only conclusion that I have been able to draw, however, is not a very easy one. It seems to me that in order for anyone to help Queen Susan would be for someone to physically go to Spare Oom and rescue her."

"That's absolutely crazy," Peter looked at him. "Why would anyone make such a drastic decision as this? This would mean that they would have to leave Narnia."

"Yes, perhaps," Tumnus said softly. "But it's not a question of someone leaving for selfish reasons. It is about someone who would willingly make the necessary sacrifice in order to help another. Even your valiant sister has said that she would make this sacrifice if allowed. However, I do not think Aslan would approve of such a proposal."

Edmund's face went a ghostly white and he nodded. "Perhaps not, but if someone is to leave Narnia to help Susan, who is to say with accuracy that she would accept or want that offered help? It seems a rather risky set of options, if you ask me."

"That's my point exactly," Peter interjected. "It's absolutely absurd!"

"It's not any crazier than some of the dreams that I've been having," Lucy looked at her eldest brother, her eyes literally imploring him to understand. When his gaze did not falter, she took a deep breath. "Since our return to Narnia, I have been haunted with visions and dreams, all of which are centered on Susan. I do not know if Susan's situation in Spare Oom is a dire one, but I do know that what I have dreamt is quite dreadful." She proceeded to tell her brothers in detail of her dreams and how often she would wake in a cold sweat. As she finished speaking, she looked at them. "Now you tell me, how is it possible to live in paradise, but still have dreams that are as terrible as these? Would you be able to live with the repercussions of having ignored them?"

Peter looked at his sister as the words hit him like a ton of bricks. "You really would go?" He asked.

"Yes, I would," Lucy said as Tumnus reached over and took her hand, but all the while was shaking his head.

_I will go,_ he thought to himself. _I will make the necessary sacrifice because I love you so much. To do this would honor me, but I must first speak to Aslan about it._

Abruptly, his thoughts shifted when he suddenly could feel Lucy's body collapsing against his. He looked down at her and watched as she drifted off to sleep. He rested his hand against the side of her head, his fingers brushing lovingly through her hair.

They sat in silence for several minutes until Tumnus raised his head and looked into the eyes of the two Narnian Kings.

"Lucy will not have to go, Your Majesties…Because, I will."


	11. Heroes and Questions

_a/n: Welcome to the latest chapter to this story. Because I will soon be going on vacation for two weeks, it is a hard call as to whether or not I will get chapter 11 up. I think it will depend on the motivation factor again. No this isn't a hint (unless you want to take it as such), but it is a fact of life. Writers sometimes need a vacation to recharge their batteries. _

_At any rate, I hope that this story meets with your expectations. I truly appreciate the feedback that you all have been leaving for me. I have been blown away by the fact that so many of you want to be alerted when chapters are added. It's really great._

_Fiji mermaid: I don't know if I will get around to writing Thomas' / Tumnus' reaction to post war London. It might slip in a little bit, it might not, hard call. I personally think that this premise would make for a fascinating story. Of course, I'm one of these folks who is big on research, and would like to present something with a level of accuracy to it._

_Save the pandas: I did take into consideration your comments about the parallels between London and Narnia. I was trying not to have the chapter be too long. This chapter opens in Narnia, and will return us to London. Here's hoping you enjoy it._

_With that said, please review it, I don't expect a mountain of reviews, but would like to know how I'm doing with this. Thanks to all of you who have been so consistent with your reviews. You all totally rock!_

_Enjoy…Yes, this starts up in Narnia, to save on the confusion.

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**Chapter 10: Heroes and Questions**

"You can't," Edmund whispered. "Mr. Tumnus, you can't just decide without Aslan's approval."

"I shall get it, then," the faun said softly as he looked down at Lucy's sleeping form. "There must be a reason behind Lucy's dreams. Nothing can get into Narnia without Aslan's approval, and I think that dreams of these kind may fall under that. There has to be a logical reason for them haunting her as they have done. Perhaps we have all underestimated the power of love that exists between Lucy and her sister." He looked down at her and closed his eyes.

"You love her," Peter affirmed after several moments had passed. His words emerged somewhat accusing, as though he was jealous of what the answer might be.

"I have felt a deep love for her since the Golden Age, yes," Tumnus said with a slight nod.

"Did you ever tell her of these feelings?" Edmund asked.

Tumnus nodded. "I told her that I loved her yes, but I did not tell her how much or to what extent. Sometimes it is far more significant to show another the degree of love without using words." As he spoke, he stroked her tousled hair gently, his eyes filling with tears. "It breaks my heart to witness how unhappy she's been. I would sacrifice my very life to insure that she would find that joy that she has lost. If that means going to this strange world of Spare Oom, then I shall do it without hesitation."

"You'd sacrifice everything for her?" Peter asked.

Tumnus nodded. "Yes, I would."

"Well, it seems to me that you are not so worried about Susan inasmuch as you are concerned for Lucy," Peter said.

"Perhaps," he nodded. "I have probably spent more time in Lucy's company than with anyone else. I have watched her become sad and begin to weep in inconvenient moments. I have spent evenings in her company reading books and manuscripts. Then afterwards, when she has slept, I have seen that it was anything but peaceful. She would awaken screaming, her voice filtering through the entire cave. The visions she must have seen in her dreams had to have been more than just visions. She has been terrified, not just for herself but also for Queen Susan. I ask you, why would she have these dreams if there were no meaning behind their existence?"

Peter exchanged looks with Edmund, but eventually the High King spoke, his voice cracking. "Perhaps you are right, but what will Lucy do if you are the chosen one? She has already lost her sister, if she loses you, she will surely crumble."

Tumnus nodded, but his gaze remained on Lucy. "She will never lose me. If I am to go to Spare Oom, then I will return and it won't be alone."

**Flashback End**

Thomas was deep in thought when Rachel returned to the room. As she came in, she noticed that he was still sitting at the table, his chin resting against his hands and his eyes half closed. As she reached him and rested her hand on his shoulder, he jumped, thus causing her to pull her hand away and back up. "Oh heavens, I must have dozed off again," he managed, his voice apologetic, and he offered her a weak smile.

"I'm sorry Dr. Jenkins, I didn't mean to startle you," she began with a somewhat nervous smile. "Are you alright?"

He nodded and managed to stand up, his knees shaking somewhat as he did. Once his breathing had returned to normal, he started to walk with calculated steps towards the door. She followed, her own movements hesitant.

As they walked beyond the walls surrounding the compound, neither could remember the journey they had taken from the monitoring station to the street. Yet, here they stood, beneath an overcast sky and the humid London summer wind wafting about.

Looking around, Rachel unconsciously shuddered knowing that it was not necessarily because of the weather. She truly hated nights like this. The overall essence seemed to embody a Halloween-like creepiness that left her nervous and wary.

She pulled her shawl closer to her slender frame and continued to follow Thomas. It was no secret, the young woman had mixed emotions about this particular man. It probably showed because of how he seemed to carry an air of mystery about him. At the exact same instance, she knew beyond any doubt that she trusted him.

Her feet scraped casually against the ground as she walked. Instead of looking down at them, she stared straight ahead, her gaze on his back. She began to take in his every movement, his body would hobble back and forth as he walked. Seconds passed and she could hear the sounds of his umbrella as it tapped steadily against the ground. The movements he made seemed to be in a precise rhythm with the tapping against the pavement.

Continuing to watch him, she sighed, her exhaled breath masked by the sounds of car tires squealing in the distance.

How she envied him. He was confident and seemed to know exactly where he was going and how he would get there. He could act like a patient in one instance, but had also managed to convince her that he was the wisest person in London. She could not forget what had happened at the hospital. She seriously began to ponder whether or not speaking out about what she had witnessed would ultimately bring harm to him. She shook her head these thoughts, she quickly dismissed.

Rachel did not know what would transpire in her life from one day to the next. She moved forward with uncertainty and her façade of strength hid away that she was in truth, as timid as a mouse. Internally, she scorned herself for it, although no one would have thought that she faced this issue on a daily basis. More than anything, she found it quite odd that she had actually had the courage to try and defend Susan. It was no secret, she had spent most of her life seriously underestimating herself.

**Flashback**

Rachel's heart was literally racing as the sounds of Susan's pain-filled screams filled her ears. She bit down on her lip, all the while trying to keep anyone from seeing the anger that literally emanated her.

Unbeknownst to just about everyone in this place, the young intern had spent her time daydreaming almost constantly of becoming a hero of sorts. She had never been all that courageous, in fact, standing up to Davenport just now was probably a first. If she happened to lose her job as a result then so what? She did not care, in fact, she hated her life anyway.

She raised her head and in the distance she could see that Thomas Jenkins was still standing in the corridor. Seconds passed and he started to approach her. Nervously, she found herself starting to walk towards him as well, but suddenly she stopped. One of the nurses had approached and engaged him in dialogue. Instead of waiting for their conversation to end, she turned around and started to make her way back down the hall. As she rounded a corner, a voice suddenly emerged, thus causing her to nearly jump out of her skin.

"I saw everything."

Whirling around she saw Bob standing in one of the doorways and took a deep breath. "So what?"

"I'm Bob," he began, all the while ignoring the indignant voice of his co-worker.

"Rachel," she said simply as she took in her co-worker. He was dressed casually in a black t-shirt and jacket. His pants were beige in color and dragged along the ground. His hair was pulled back and his eyes were concealed by thick rimmed glasses. She had seen him before, but knew very little about him. He seemed to be a medical student and was trying to earn his brownie points in order to become a doctor.

By this time, Bob was no longer casually leaning against the doorframe. Instead, he had straightened out and was watching her through bemused eyes. "I never thought I would see anyone going up against that old bat. Specifically not someone who is as timid as a mouse like you are," he said as she started to walk away from him.

"Dynamite comes in small packages, you know," she offered somewhat crossly.

"True," he said shrugging his shoulders. "But from what I have seen of you, I concluded a long time ago that that any action like that would be rather out of character."

"Then you saw what happened?" She asked.

"Yeah, it was monumentally crazy, but heck, it really changed my impression of you," Bob said smiling.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I don't know, it was just a brave thing to do. I mean; the last time anyone ever stood up to Davenport, they ended up getting suspended from their job. I wish I could be that brave, but I can't take that kind of risk. Whether I like it or not, my future happens to be here."

Rachel looked at him. "I'm not all that brave."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know, maybe because I know that I have other options," she said as she started to make her way down the hall in the direction of the employees cafeteria.

Bob started to amble after her, his arms folded across his chest and a lopsided grin covered his face. He did not say anything until they had entered the cafeteria and he had closed the door behind them. Looking around, his smile grew broader when he realized that they were alone. He went over to a second table and grabbed an ashtray before returning to sit down across from her. "Don't ever underestimate yourself," he said simply.

"Why, you yourself said it was a crazy thing to do," she said. "In hindsight, it probably was."

"I don't know," he said as he pulled out a half-crushed pack of cigarettes from his pocket and fumbled for a lighter. "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?"

"No, why should I mind?" She asked.

"I don't know, it's polite to ask before just lighting up," he smiled as he stuck the end of the cigarette in his mouth. "You want one?" He offered as the cigarette wobbled up and down from between his lips. He extended the pack to her, but she shook her head. He dropped the package casually on the table and in one fluid movement, he lit up.

As he removed the cigarette from his mouth and held it between his index and middle finger, he exhaled and a cloud of smoke encircled his head. "I guess if I was in your shoes, I probably would have done the same thing," he commented with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

"It doesn't matter," she began. "To people like Dr. Davenport we're just a couple of bugs waiting to be squashed."

"True, that woman is brutal, no question. Sort of like the Wicked Witch of the West?" He cackled as he tapped his cigarette against one side of the ashtray.

"Yes, I suppose she is like her, minus the green skin," Rachel said with a weak laugh. "I can't help but wonder why the hospital would hire someone like that to take care of patients? I mean; isn't this like an oath of trust or something?"

"I don't know, if you want my opinion, these people are just as good at copping an act as those unemployed actors in Piccadilly Circus," he offered. "The thing you have to remember about people like Davenport is that with their little charade, they could easily win an Oscar. They play their cards one way with the patients, and play them another with the board of directors. As long as she continues to play these sorts of games, then things will just continue on as usual and nothing will ever change."

"But something has to be done," Rachel whispered more to herself than to him.

"Yeah, you're right, but how many people really have the courage to stand up and fight?" He asked. "If you want my honest opinion, Susan Pevensie will have to become another hospital statistic before they decide to do anything." As he finished speaking, he took another drag on his cigarette.

"The person I saw didn't look like her," Rachel mused.

"Do you know her?" He asked.

"I knew her sister," Rachel said softly. "It was a long time ago; back when we were kids in school. Lucy and I were in the same class. We weren't close, but we knew each other. Lucy used to tell stories about a fantasy world and talking beasts. Her favorite game was to pretend that she was a queen and would dress up in these old dresses and parade about. I never really thought much of it, but Susan used to get really angry about it and yell at her. Her favorite thing to say was 'would you just grow up?' She seemed to think that her younger sister was a pain in the neck."

"I take it you know Susan's family is dead, don't you?" Bob asked.

"I read about it in the paper, they said that it was a train accident. It was a terrible thing to happen, the Pevensies were good people. I remember when we were in school, Lucy showed me this picture of her two brothers and back then I thought Edmund was adorable. It was that typical 'teenage crush on the older brother' thing," she smiled weakly as a nervous laugh escaped. "I got over it quickly though, when Lucy told me about how Edmund had started dating a girl with red hair, red lips, and red fingernails. Funny how those things just die off like that."

"Yeah, hysterical," Bob said as he took a final drag on his cigarette before mashing it out. "You're connected to that family though, you knew them, so maybe a good start would be to try and get to know Susan a little bit better," he offered. "Something did compel you to try and defend her after all."

"How can I?" Rachel asked. "Davenport is always around and she seems to pride herself on making Susan's life a living hell."

"I don't know, but if you have a plan, now would be the ideal time to act on it," Bob said as he got up and left the room.

Once he was gone, Rachel rested her elbows on the table and stared down at the top of the table.

**Flashback End**

"Rachel, is everything alright?" Thomas Jenkins' voice suddenly filled her mind and she blinked several times. Taking a deep breath, realization suddenly hit that she was standing on a street. In the distance, she could see the red, white, and blue colored sign, thus indicating the entrance to the extensive subway system.

Apparently, she had stopped and Thomas had turned around to see her standing and staring off into space.

She took a deep breath as she continued to walk, her steps quick and brusque as she tried to catch up with him. "Yes, I'm fine," she managed, but her thoughts continued to whirl about.

Finally, so as to not be caught daydreaming again, she started to focus her attention on his steps. His limping looked almost concentrated and this seemed to act as a distraction of sorts. At least that was what she thought. Moments later, they reached the tube entrance and he abruptly turned around. "What?" He eventually spoke, his voice breaking into her thoughts.

"Huh?" She responded, her voice a soft mumble.

"You're staring," he said.

As if on cue, she lowered her head.

"You know, Rachel, the more I think about it, the more of a mystery you are to me," he said.

I'm a mystery, she internally screamed, what about you? Instead of voicing this, she raised her head and spoke, her voice a soft murmur. "What do you mean?"

"Well, sometimes you come across as being very courageous, almost cocky, while other times you seem shy and reserved. You speak out about the injustices around you, but at the same time, you seem scared that you will say too much. Right now, you look frightened. It is almost as though you have some hidden secret or wish."

In response to this, instead of speaking, she simply looked at him, the expression that shadowed her face, unreadable.


	12. Rachel's Journey

_This is probably the last chapter before I leave for vacation. I have a great deal of work to do on future chapters, specifically chapter 12, where I have been doing a lot of cutting and pasting on. Hopefully when I get back the chapter will be ready to be posted. That will be in approximately three weeks. One week will be spent preparing for vacation, and two weeks will be on vacation._

_I hope that this will suffice until I get back._

_Now for individual remarks, which I think is only right to address them in my pre chapter remarks:_

_tensixtythree: I will admit that this story does fall under the umbrella of 'Susan Redemption stories', however I will not post it as strictly a redemption story because my interpretations of Narnia are not allegorical. Every writer has his/her own style of writing and generally in big writing projects such as this, I thoroughly enjoy the many facets (or layers) with regards to plot, character development, and the use of flashbacks. Ultimately, the story's goal is to help Susan find her way back into Narnia, but it will not entirely be through her thoughts and actions, but through the other characters she interacts with. I simply want this to be anything but a typical Susan 'redemption' story. If it was typical, then I would have grown bored with it and probably have stopped writing several chapters back._

_Fledge: Yes, the witch symbolism is still there, and yes, I threw that in there on purpose. I want to keep drawing back to the parallel of the white witch and Narnia, and Davenport and Pleasantville (which is another stroke of irony, since there is nothing really 'pleasant' about this place). I did add some of your thoughts about the electric shocks etc. into Rachel's dialogue in this chapter. I figured that it was rather an important bit of information and also significant given the time frame we're dealing with. I hope you enjoy it and as always, I appreciate your suggestions because they have been monumentally helpful for the development of the future chapters, so kudos and thanks!_

_Trecebo: This idea with Thomas or Tumnus' walking problems actually came from another story I read here on the forum. I didn't want to copy the concept that the other person used, so instead I gave him a limp and used the stairs to sort of outline the struggles in a physical way that he has to overcome in our world._

_Galnicia and MegastarMog: Even the smallest review is greatly appreciated. I'm so glad that you are both enjoying the story and thank you for reading! Reviews, no matter how big or small will always be appreciated and they are motivation._

_Killing u with umbrellas: I didn't want to make this too confusing. I'm sorry if some of the younger readers are having a hard time following what is going on. There exist a great deal of flashbacks, some taking us back to Narnia which follows the storyline of Tumnus becoming Thomas, whereas others follow along the development of Rachel becoming a major team player here in the story. All of these flashbacks help us to understand what is happening in the present a little bit better. Although some of the stuff may be confusion, all that one needs to remember is that everything that happens in the story adds to the 'goal' of getting Susan to come home._

_Finally, this is a general remark. I decided to do the monastery bit here, not because of any sort of religious indications or influences, but rather because I have been, during the course of the last year writing a book about them. I was inspired as I was writing this chapter to include them. This was done as a side-note of sorts, but holds no symbolic significance to the flow of the overall story (at least not yet!)._

_If you're still reading these remarks, thanks, but now it's time to get on with it._

_Enjoy, and as always, reviews are love.

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**Chapter 11: Rachel's Journey**

They continued to wordlessly walk in the direction of the subway station. Thomas' comments were left literally hanging like a pendulum in the air. All around them, the sounds of cars revving their engines or tires squealing could be detected. After some moments of awkward silence, Rachel finally found her voice and looked at him. "Dr. Jenkins, doesn't everyone have their own set of secrets or ideas?"

"Perhaps," he said with a slow nod.

"Yet, you say I'm a mystery to you," she shook her head. "What about you? One minute you act like a mental patient, and the next you are talking with the wisdom of Socrates."

"I don't rightfully know if I am all that wise, but it seems more than obvious to me that you do have something on your mind. Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"I don't need an evaluation," she said abruptly.

"I'm not trying to give you one, I'm just offering to listen if you want to talk to me," he shot back.

She took a deep breath and looked over at him. "Alright, if you insist. I was just wondering if you ever wondered if you were capable of being someone else's hero?" She asked, her thoughts now becoming verbal.

"Not really," He responded simply. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, I've just been thinking about it a lot lately," she shrugged her shoulders. "I'm an intern in a hospital, in my third year at nursing school, but I'm not happy. I remember that day when I stood up to Dr. Davenport and how it felt. It was both good and scary. It also reminded me of how afraid I was. It was as though I had, in the wink of an eye, become another person. It felt like I had stepped away from being this weak and feeble little mouse and had somehow become a woman. That sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"Not as stupid as you may think," he said. "Sometimes the act of heroism springs forth when a person puts another ahead of themselves. Perhaps you did this with Susan unconsciously. Everyday people can become heroes without ever realizing it. In hindsight, when you defended Susan, you helped brought yourself to that point by putting her ahead of yourself."

"If Davenport was insistent enough about that incident, I could have lost my job," Rachel said as she looked down at the ground. "I think it really surprised me that I didn't. I mean; all she would have had to do was to go to the administration and report me as being insubordinate. She could use the age-old argument of trying to help Susan. If you want my honest opinion, I don't think she helped anyone, but instead has caused her patients long-term damage."

"What Dr. Davenport did to Susan and others like her was anything but help."

"Well you don't have to tell me that," Rachel said. "But that woman has something that I don't, and that is a background in psychiatry. Her treatment methods are sadly considered commonplace in this day and age. I mean; in this world psychiatric patients have no right whatsoever and are often considered scum of the earth."

"Are you serious?" He asked.

"Of course I am, haven't you ever read One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest? This sort of thing is outlined in that book alone, but it is something that has happened," she said sadly.

"No, I've never read it," Thomas responded. "Is it really that bad?"

"Well, let me just say that that book makes Pleasantville look like a walk in the park," Rachel said sadly. "Two days after I spoke to Bob the first time, he loaned me his copy of it and after I read it, my skin was literally crawling."

"You think that a book can do that?" He asked.

"Sure, books can trigger emotions, feelings and memories," she began. "They are pretty much like anything else out there, they can remind people of their weaknesses and strengths, and they can also catalyze all kinds of things," she said.

"Like dreams," he mumbled.

"Yes, among other things," she said as they continued to walk and suddenly Rachel turned and looked at him. "Dr. Jenkins, something has been bothering me since we were at the hospital."

"What's that?" He asked.

"Did you go to the administration about me?"

"No why do you ask?" He stopped and turned to face her.

"I don't know, it just seems as though I have really been testing my limits quite a lot lately. First with Davenport and now with you."

"So you're afraid that I will try to get rid of you for standing up for Susan?" He asked.

"Sure, it's normal, people do it all the time," she said.

"I wouldn't," he shook his head as he once more began to walk. As he did, she fell into step beside him as his next words caused her to release a pent up breath. "After all, we're both apparently on the same side, aren't we?"

"I think so, but I was worried because of the way I spoke to you today. That could have served you a reason to complain. All you would have had to do would be to go to the personnel department and tell them what happened. Instead, you defended yourself against my words, but not in the manner that a doctor would. You spoke to me as though I was an equal."

"Aren't you?" He asked.

She took a deep breath. "No, what I did was rude, and I should respect you for being older and wiser than me. I think what happened was your reaction felt really strange to me."

"What do you mean?" He asked as they reached the entrance to the subway and began to slowly descend a second staircase.

"Just what I said, it was odd," she said shrugging her shoulders. She regarded him fearfully as though she had said too much. "This is off the record, isn't it?"

"Everything we speak of away from the hospital is, as you say, 'off the record'," he affirmed with a nod.

"Then can I ask an unrelated question?" She asked.

"Of course," he responded.

"I was just wondering where are we going?" As her question emerged, an unconscious tremor shot through her and she waited for his answer.

"My flat is about three stations away from here, if you have no objections to taking tea with me," he offered cordially as he tried to read her uncertain facial expression. "I think I understand if you would rather not." His voice emerged different, filled with serene and friendly undertones. It did not feel as though he was feeding her a line of some kind. His words were simple and conveyed a willingness to dismiss the formalities that he otherwise used.

For her part, Rachel could not let go of the feeling that she had known him for years, as opposed to having worked with him for only a few short months. Without stopping to contemplate this, she nodded. "I suppose that's fine," she offered, her voice neither cracking nor wavering, but instead sounded straightforward. "It's odd, but for some strange reason, I have this feeling I can trust you."

He smiled as they reached the landing and walked towards the edge of the platform as the train pulled up and stopped, the sounds of its brakes filling the air with shrill squeals. As these sounds ceased, the doors opened and they climbed in. Thomas managed to make his way over to a group of seats and lowered himself onto one.

The trip passed in silence and as promised, three stations later, the doors slid open and they disembarked. All around them, they could see the other passengers hastening out of the station. Instead of running behind them, Thomas stopped and waited for them to pass by before he slowly climbed the stairs.

Rachel followed and soon the two of them stepped out into the busy subway station. They crossed through it until they reached another set of stairs and made their way out of the underground.

How in the world does he manage? She asked herself, but followed. As they stepped outside, she groaned. A steady stream of rain was now falling and she took her shawl and tried without success to wrap it around herself as a means of combating the summer shower. "The one day I actually forget to bring an umbrella, and I get caught in a virtual downpour," she mumbled.

Instead of responding, Thomas quickly opened his umbrella and stepped closer to her. "There's room under the umbrella if you want to stay dry," he offered as he extended the briefcase to her. She nodded as she accepted the offered object, inched her way closer to the offered shelter, and allowed him to lead her towards the group of buildings where he lived.

The first thing Rachel noticed was that this part of town looked rundown and war torn. In the distance, she could see a beer hall where various street people were hanging about. Their loud voices penetrated the air as the odors of stale beer filled her nostrils. Adjacent to the pub, drifters stood under building overhangs smoking cigarettes, while businessmen read newspapers at the bus stop. The light emitted around them was adequate, but Rachel cringed when she felt herself being led into a darker area. As they walked, she spotted yet another group of people who were using large sheets of plastic in order to keep themselves dry. "It looks as though this part of town really saw the extent of the bombings," she mused.

"You remember the war?" He asked.

"I lost some of my family during the bombing raids," she whispered. "It was a terrible time. My family sent me into the countryside during them and today I still have nightmares about it."

He nodded but no words emerged. Instead they approached a small group of buildings. These dwellings, although old and sturdy, looked rather like boarding houses, which were tall, dark, and uninviting.

Extending parallel from the front side of the building was a cobblestone street with several old-fashioned lampposts lining it. The buildings themselves looked to be half restored, half damaged. The bombs had probably damaged them, Rachel concluded as she tried to keep up with her escort.

As they got closer they could see a dim light that cast over the buildings. From the street, they could suddenly see a steeple as it peered out from between the buildings. Seconds later a single chime abruptly filled the air, thus announcing that it was fifteen minutes past the hour.

They passed by one of these large structures, and Thomas abruptly stopped in front of a smaller group of buildings. At that moment, Rachel looked up to see a sign, which was situated in front of the building.

The nearby flickering lamppost conveniently illuminated one side of the sign. She strained her eyes until she was able to quickly read the words that covered it before the light blinked out and darkness concealed it. The words read:

_St. Aurelian's Benedictine Monastery_

Thomas turned and made his way towards the large brown colored door and she hesitated, her voice strained. "You live in a monastery?" She asked somewhat confused as he pulled a large keychain from his pocket and fumbled with it before unlocking the door.

"It's not directly on the monastery premises. They rent out small flats here to friends of their convent," he explained. "When I first came to London in order to take the job at the hospital, I managed to secure a flat here. You see, during the time when I was living in Birmingham, I met a group of monks and became friends with them. Later, when they found out that I was moving to London, they used their connections to help me. I told them straightaway that I did not require much. A room with four walls was quite adequate and they offered me a place in this house."

"Are you a monk or a novice?" She asked.

"No, neither actually." He said as he pushed the door open. "Come, not to worry, the monks have all retired for the night, and even if they were awake, you probably wouldn't run into any of them. They tend to keep to themselves after hours."

She nodded and came into the portal room of the monastery. This was the first time she had ever been in such a place and was taken aback by the rustic smell as well as the arched ceilings depicting an old gothic style of architecture.

For his part, Thomas closed the umbrella, shook it out before placing it over his forearm. Next, he extended his hand to her, his motion indicating that he was expecting her to return the briefcase. When she recognized what he wanted, she nodded and returned it to him.

On one side of the room was a heavy, brown, wooden door while on the other she could see a newer and more modern glass door. Through it, a long corridor stretched out as far as the eyes could see. On one side, a small stairwell was detectible.

Thomas approached the glass door and pulled it open, all the while stepping to one side in order to allow her access. She cast a final glance back towards the wooden door and then stepped into the corridor. She figured that the other door is what led into the heart of the monastery. She stopped as he closed the glass door and joined her.

"This place is really amazing," she mumbled.

"Sadly, some of it was destroyed during the war," Thomas said. "The monks have been hard at work trying to restore the back side of the cloister. It has taken them a number of years as well as a great deal of money to repair the damaged buildings."

Rachel nodded. "It was a dreadful time, no question. Like I said, I had to leave when I was a child. My aunt and uncle lived in Cornwall and she was the type of person who couldn't stand children. I was about eight, but never forgot." She paused as she took a deep breath and released it slowly. "War is not pleasant for anyone, but it's especially hard for children. We were innocent in those days and don't understand why the grown ups can't get along with one another. It just is mystery to us."

By this time, Thomas had grown silent and started to make his way up the stairs, his thoughts drifting, but Rachel's voice abruptly broke into his contemplations.

"May I ask you something?" She asked as he gripped the handrail and the briefcase slipped to the floor. She picked it up and tucked it under her arm.

"Thank you," he offered.

"It's no trouble, but Dr. Jenkins, is the war why you have trouble walking?" She asked, her voice barely audible. As they reached the landing and he started to walk down the hall towards another door, his answer emerged.

"Actually no, I've always walked this way," he responded softly as he tried to catch his breath. Fumbling with his keys yet again, he found the one he was searching for and managed to unlock the door.

"Here we are," he said as he swung the door open. "Come along."

Rachel entered the flat and looked around as she placed the briefcase on the small chest that was next to the door. As she came into the sitting room, the first thing she noticed was the overwhelming plainness that seemed to emanate it. On one corner of the room was a small writing table, with a matching bookshelf. On another stood a beat up wardrobe and a sofa. All the furniture looked to be used and run down.

Rachel looked around with distaste emanating her, but she managed to speak. "This looks rather like one of the cells at the hospital," she said.

"Perhaps," he said as he went into the kitchenette and began to prepare the water for tea.

"Can I help you with anything?" She asked.

"No, please just make yourself at home," he said smiling.

She nodded and went over to the sofa and sat down.

* * *

The minutes slowly ticked by and Rachel continued to take in the room. Instead of remaining seated, she stood up and approached the bookshelf and started to run her hand along the books. Most of them dealt with psychology or sociology, which is actually what she half expected. 

She continued to read through the titles, and abruptly stopped when she read a title that seemed out of place amidst the medical books and dissertations. It was Dickens, her personal favorite author. "Oliver Twist," she mumbled smiling slightly as Thomas came into the living area with a tray carrying teacups, a teapot, milk, and sugar.

"The tea's ready," he said smiling as he placed the tray on the table and watched as she turned away from the bookshelf. "Did you find anything of interest?" He asked cordially.

She shook her head as she lowered her hand, came over to the sofa, and seated herself.

"I hope that this tea will please you. Where I come from the teas are much better; they have a richer taste. Even the milk is fresher," he sat down across from her as he reached for the brown colored teapot.

"I think it looks very nice, but home is generally where everything is the nicest," she offered politely. "I don't know why I'm here, though. You said that there was something you wanted to tell me, but I have no idea what that could be. I'm hoping that you'll explain to me why I was hearing that voice."

"I can try," he said as he poured the tea and extended a cup to her.

She accepted it and took a deep breath. "I hope you can ease my tension here. I mean; this whole thing with that voice is something I can't get out of my mind. Am I cracking up or something? I mean; I never contemplated it, but what if I'm just as crazy as the patients in the hospital?"

"You're not crazy," he said with an adamant shake of his head. "Rachel, I have to tell you what happened back there. Yet, I fear that it could take quite some time for me to help you to understand. I don't even know where to start, but in my explanation, I must not only tell you about my home, but also why I am here."

"You're a doctor, you have a job to do. What's not to understand," she began, but looked over to see that he was shaking his head.

"No, Rachel, the truth is, I was sent here from another place to bring Susan Pevensie home," he said.

"Home?" Rachel asked weakly.

Thomas took a deep breath. "Everything you saw at the hospital in Susan's room as well as what you saw later at the monitoring station were real. They were things that I saw and experienced as well. There was a reason for everything that happened."

"Then it wasn't make believe?" She asked.

"No, you heard this voice when we played back that reel. You saw me doing things that seemed out of character for someone who is supposedly a professional. You said earlier that I acted like a mental patient in one minute and then spoke with wisdom the next. Do you remember?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" She asked.

He took a deep breath. "I'm not who you think me to be, at least not entirely. You may see me as being a professional or a doctor, but that is not entirely what I am. I did study and work very hard to become what you see before you, but all of the things that I have done in this place were done with one goal in mind."

"I don't understand," she began. "What goal are you talking about and what does all of this really mean?"

"It means, you are the chosen one," he said. "You have been chosen to help me, help Susan Pevensie."


	13. Tumnus' Explanation Begins

_Welcome back to the story…well you weren't gone, but I was. _

_So, here I am back with this chapter. I hope it was worth the three week long break that I had to give all of you. But, you knew I'd be back, right? For a time I wasn't so sure because I had a writer's block like nothing in the world. Well, here's hoping that the block is over._

_Now for individual comments._

_Fledge: I don't know why I chose to have Rachel as the chosen character. Maybe I was totally having a case of being lazy and didn't want to introduce another Daughter of Eve to the mixture. I would guess that Aslan chose her because he knows that Tumnus needed help and that will be explained later on. The other issue you mentioned is one that I want to make perfectly clear publicly with all the bells and whistles affixed. This story will not have romantic aspects in it except for Tumnus and Lucy (if that). I'm trying really hard to show the emotion of love as a sacrifice or gift from one to another as opposed to the whole 'love story theme' that is prevalent in many Narnia stories. I figure if people want they can read my other story 'Somewhere Beneath the Narnian Moon' for the sappy romance elements. I want to say that I think love stories in general have lost that spiritual aspect of love, and this is what I'm trying to show, when Tumnus / Thomas says 'I love Lucy with all my heart'. This isn't just about romance, but it's about a love that goes much deeper. Rachel is not in the story to fall in love with any of the other characters. In fact, future chapters will show that in a rather surprising way._

_Save the Pandas: You're catching the parallels very well. Read on._

_Sweetallure: Thanks for giving it a chance and good luck with the a-key._

_trickstersqueen15: Glad you like it. My stories are all incest-free because that stuff sort of creeps me out. I'm glad you're enjoying this one, and hope this chapter was worth the wait._

_As for the rest of you folks who commented. Thank you so much for your comments and for reading. I don't always have time to respond individually, but you are so appreciated for taking the time to read and review. Here's hoping this chapter exceeds your expectations._

_As always, reviews are love.

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**Chapter 12: Tumnus' Explanation Begins**

A strange silence hung in the air for several moments until Rachel spoke. "Help Susan?" She asked wearily. "How can I help her? Everyone's convinced she's crazy."

"I know, the task at hand is to help her find her way home," he said as he wrung his hands nervously together. At this point, he did not fully know if his words would clarify or confuse her. He took a deep breath and waited.

"Home? What do you mean when you say 'home'?" Rachel looked at him somewhat nervously. "I don't understand anything you're trying to tell me."

"What I mean is…" his voice trailed off. This was not as easy as he thought. "…Rachel, what I'm trying to say is that my intention is to help bring her to the same place I am from."

"From what I have been able to surmise, you are from Birmingham," she shook her head. "Does the Pevensie family even have contacts there?"

"I don't mean Birmingham," he began as he took a deep breath. "This is all rather difficult for me to explain, but please let me try. The place I call 'home' is not in Birmingham, nor is it in England. When Bob asked me where I was from, I told him that my degrees came from there, but that is not the place of my birth. The place where I come from is rather far removed from this one. Susan was there a long time ago. She was a child back then, and it was there, where we met the first time."

"You know her?" Rachel asked as she stood up and started to make her way towards the window, her back still facing him.

"Yes, I met her when she was just a child," he said. "She and her siblings came to the old country and saved my life."

Rachel turned back from the window and looked at him. "Perhaps I ought to sit down. Something tells me that this is going to take awhile."

"It will," he said with a slow nod. "Perhaps it will explain to you why I am the way I am."

Rachel lowered herself onto the sofa, her hands rubbing unconsciously against one another, the nervousness in her stance evident. "I knew from the start that there was a lot of mystery surrounding you, but that excuse is becoming overused. You said you want to tell me the truth, but no matter what you say, it comes across sounding like rubbish. I'm sitting here and my head is literally spinning and I just want to know what in God's name is going on."

"I understand, and I know that this is not easy. I fear that you may take me for a fool, but the truth is; my real name is not Thomas Jenkins. In actuality, that person does not really exist."

"So let me get this straight. You are parading around pretending to be a doctor when you aren't one at all?" She asked skeptically. "Are you schizophrenic or something?"

"No," he shook his head.

"But if that's true, then what you're confessing is that you are not a PhD in psychiatry," she looked at him, her eyes bearing into his own. "Is Susan being treated by a quack?"

"A quack?"

"It's an American term, it basically is a person who practices medicine who has no business doing so. You know, a fraud, swindler, charlatan."

"No, I am not a fraud," he began. "I am a real doctor, I studied and hold the degree that allows me to practice. I learned everything that the job entails, but that position does not define who or what I am. When I came to London, I had partially forgotten who I truly am and today I was reminded through a rather unbelievable circumstance. Rachel, you yourself heard the voices in the monitoring room at the hospital. You heard them because you were supposed to. It was fate or destiny, and this told me that you could handle the truth."

"OK, since you seem to thrive on keeping me in suspense, then let's start with something easy. If you're not Thomas Jenkins, then who the hell are you?" Rachel put her hands on her hips and regarded him through hostile eyes.

"My name is Tumnus," he said as he lowered his head, but offered her his hand as a gesture to shake. What she did next was back away from him.

"I will listen to you, but please keep your distance," she began as she eyed his offered hand warily.

"There exists a great deal for me to explain to you it seems," he began as he withdrew his hand and ran it through his curly blondish brown hair. "I won't hurt you, I am only here to help Susan."

"Yeah, and if memory serves, that's exactly what Davenport's cronies said before they beat the shit out of Susan. People use speeches like that all the time. Might I add that generally they get away with it because they believe themselves to be infallible?" Rachel wrapped her arms around herself and trembled unconsciously.

"Do you remember the voices you heard?" He asked softly trying all the while to bring the conversation back to his explanation.

"All I remember was that whoever that was had called you by that other name," she said. "It was scary and strange, as though the person speaking was addressing me as well."

He nodded. "Yes, I think he did address you in that sense. You see, you asked me earlier about the voice, but when you saw me in Susan's room, I had been hearing the voice as well. It was for this reason that you thought I was a bit mixed up. It was a voice that I had not heard in a very, very long time. It was rather strange for me to hear it, as I had grown so accustomed to silence. When he spoke my name, I suddenly felt as though my heart was filled with joy. I had received the opportunity to hear my name, my real name, being spoken by someone from where I come."

"It sounds like you're homesick," Rachel said softly.

"Yes, quite," he admitted softly. "I have traveled far beyond the borders of my home and for years I heard nothing. Then suddenly, I received a message that was familiar and special. It is rather like coming home, returning to the one I love. Somehow, for the first time in years, I know that all will be right again. That is what I felt when he spoke to me."

"Who's voice was it?" She asked softly. "It scared me, but at the same time, there was something soothing and gentle about it. I didn't know what to do, I felt rather torn. Part of me wanted to run away, while the other part simply felt as though there was a reason for me to be there."

"Yes," he said softly and started to move slowly towards her. "The voice you heard was Aslan."

"Aslan?" She asked softly and when he nodded, she continued. "You mean that name that Susan sometimes calls out in her sleep?"

"Yes, the very same," he nodded. "She thinks he has forgotten her, but he has not."

"Why did I hear it?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know. Perhaps he figured that I needed your help. Aslan told me that there was a chosen person to help Susan Pevensie, a Daughter of Eve."

"A what?" Rachel raised her head.

"A Daughter of Eve, a human girl," he said. "He said I must trust someone else in order to help Susan."

"But there are other girls who could help, aren't there?" She whispered. "How can you be so certain that this strange Aslan person was referring to me?"

"The obvious answer is that you heard his voice. Through that, I concluded that it must have been you who has been chosen. In that knowing, it means I must share the entire truth with you. Not just about me, but also about Aslan and his role in everything. This means that I must tell you about Narnia…"

"…Narnia?" She whispered.

"Narnia is the land of my birth," he said softly and took a deep breath and watched as her gaze came to rest on a large globe that was on the top shelf of the bookcase. She started to stand up but he reached out and took her hand. "Rachel, Narnia cannot be found in that manner. It is, you see, physically far away from here. Someone once told me that it is as close as one's mind and fantasy and as far away as eternity. That is, it could very well be in the next room."

"Is this a figment of your imagination?" She asked, her gaze returning to him.

"No, Narnia is not a made up place, it is very real," he said. "It is like a magical land; one where animals speak and joy and laughter emanate all things. There are dryads and nymphs in Narnia. There are creatures that you would call in your language 'fantasy' or 'mystical'. For me, this place is as real as the hospital or London itself. It is in this place where I am in my true form, and not this crippled doctor as you see before you. It is there where I am capable of running freely."

"Is this like Heaven or something?" Rachel asked. "Have you really created this perfect place in your mind?"

"I do not know what heaven is, but this is not a self-created place," he said. "In this place, I am not human, I am a faun."

"A faun?" Rachel looked at him clearly confused.

"For the most part, I look like a man here," he placed his hand over his stomach and raised it, thus indicating his upper torso and head. "But, here," he applied the same motion, moving from his abdomen down towards his feet, "I am what you would call in your language, a goat."

"Wait," she whispered as she backed away from him. "I wanted the truth, not some mixed-up fantasy."

"Nothing that I tell you is a fabrication, it is very real," he shook his head. "It would be far too easy for me to say that I made up this place and deny its very existence. What I am saying is the absolute truth. Narnia is real and scientifically it cannot be proven or explained. If you must focus on practicality, I, myself, cannot be explained although I am here. I believe that your word for what I am describing is rather like 'faith' or 'trust'. I cannot prove the existence of this place through my words, I can only affirm that I speak the truth. Of course, some have described it as being an alternate reality. What you must know is that in this place, Peter, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie live. It is the deep love that I hold for Lucy that has brought me to this place."

"Wait, if what you're saying is true, then you're describing the afterlife, a place like Heaven," she whispered her eyes widening. "Lucy and her brothers are dead, they died in '49 in a train wreck."

"Yes, I know all of that," he nodded.

"Then why are you telling me that Lucy is alive?" Rachel asked.

"I am only telling you my memories of it," he said softly. "When I first came here, I learned that Narnian time is of no relevance. That is, I may have lived in England for the last six or seven years, but the passage of time in Narnia could be a day, a week or hundreds, perhaps thousands, of years. I have essentially spent every moment here trying to help Susan. The problem is, once I tell her the truth, I don't know if she will believe me, or if we will ever be able to get back. In the depths of my heart and soul, I yearn to return to Lucy."

"You love her?" Rachel asked.

"More than life itself," he said softly. "It was that love that brought me here. Her happiness depends upon my success in this place."

Rachel abruptly stood up and started towards the door. "I don't know if you even realize this, but what you're talking about is crazy. You're talking about taking someone out of this life and bringing her into your perceived 'ultimate reality'. Dr. Jenkins, you are a medical doctor, and your job is to treat the patient, to save their life, not to end it."

"No, you don't understand, I don't wish to harm her," Thomas said. "My job here is to help her find closure. Rachel, please just hear me out…"

"…I don't want to hear you out, what you're saying is crazy," she began. "Even if you did manage to convince her to go to this Narnia place, we're still talking about death and dying here. What you are proposing is…is nuts!"

He stood up and started to walk towards where she was standing in the doorway. "What Susan is experiencing at this moment is not life, it is nothing more than existence. She is living under someone else's thumb, and that's not life or living. I know that it sounds rather crazy to you, but it's the truth, and Lucy…"

"…Lucy is dead, Dr. Jenkins, or whoever the hell you are," Rachel said, her voice bordering on a shout. "She's dead and not coming back." For the first time since meeting this mysterious man, she felt the fear of him literally wash over her and with trembling hands she reached for the lever on the door. As soon as she touched it, she backed closer to it and pressed down on it, the latch clicking and the door opening.

Thomas shook his head. "Aslan was perhaps mistaken…" he mumbled dejectedly as she started to back her way out the door, her eyes still on him.

"I should go to the police and report you. What you're talking about here is medically assisted suicide and based on my knowledge of the law, it's illegal. Forget going to the psycho ward for it, you could land in prison."

"I knew that coming here would be dangerous. Aslan warned me of this," he whispered and lowered his head.

"Aslan again! Who is this Aslan?" Rachel demanded but seemed to not be all that willing to leave just yet. Something compelled her to remain standing and listen to his response.

"Aslan is the creator of Narnia, the one true King of the wood. He was the one who crowned Susan Pevensie as Queen Susan the Gentle," he said. "He made me this way so that I could walk among you and not be treated as an outsider. You see, if I had come here as a faun, Susan would immediately have known me and I would not have had the adequate means in which to help her," he said softly.

"Everything you're saying is crazy. It's no wonder you wanted to talk somewhere where we weren't being monitored." With that, she stepped out into the corridor before closing the door firmly behind her, thus separating the two of them.

* * *

As soon as she was gone, Thomas returned to the sofa and sat back down on the sofa. He was completely alone in this place and could feel the tears brimming from beneath his eyes. He covered his face with his hands. "It was wrong," he eventually whispered to the stillness. "Trying to explain all of this to Rachel Friedman had been a futile mistake." 

The fear and dejection he felt seemed to hang in the air like a pendulum. He wanted to cry, the knot that had formed in his chest felt as though it was growing more taut with each breath he took. His breathing alone felt raspy and he could sense that his heart was racing within the confines of his chest. "Aslan, I need help," he whispered to the stillness, his words cracking as they filled his own ears. "I want to come home…I have failed and I'm so frightened."

As his pleas remained unanswered, he eventually stood up and reached for the small tray and began to stack the cups and saucers on it. As he finished this task, he wrapped his fingers around the edges of the tray and stood up with it. Rounding the coffee table, he hobbled his way back into the kitchen. As he moved, one of the teacups began to wobble from the motion until it teetered over the side and shattered against the tiled floor.

As the cup broke, he stared at it for several minutes as his thoughts drifted back to that fateful first day when he had happened upon Lucy Pevensie in the forest. His blue-eyed gaze stared at the broken object, the brown colored cup lying on the tiled floor in the same manner.

If the tears had yet to fall by this time, then this small instance brought them on. As he felt the tears streaming down his cheeks, he wiped his hand over his face, thus smearing them away. The images from his past seemed to flood over him as he reached for a basin and clumsily began to collect the pieces of the broken cup.

Rachel was not Lucy, he realized at that moment. She was a good person, but she was not one who easily trusted. This had become abundantly clear to him when he had been denied the chance to finish his explanation.

"She thought I was crazy," he whispered under his breath. "Lucy had accepted everything. Even as a young woman she had not become so bitter and skeptical of things as Rachel and Susan now were."

As if by instinct, he raised his head, his thoughts literally racing. Somehow, rational thinking was the norm in this place. The concepts of 'faith' and 'trust' were now gone, and in their place 'skepticism' and 'mistrust' dwelled. Perhaps what has happened to Queen Susan is a mode of survival here. Susan has not forgotten about Narnia. Perhaps what transpired is that she, like Rachel, were forced to learn early on that in order to survive in this world, one must leave the fancies of the past behind. Yet, even with that knowledge, this still does not explain Rachel's role in all of this.

The questions continued to hang in the air as he finished cleaning up the broken teacup. Once he finished, he decided to leave the tray on the counter and retire for the night. There was very little point to sitting up and waiting for Rachel to have a change of heart. He would probably not see her until the following morning. At this point, however, he knew that could do nothing more so he turned off the light in the main room and made his way into his adjoining bedroom.

In his room, he began to shed the restricting garments he wore. In Narnia and as a faun, the extent of his clothing was a scarf. Here, he had buckles, buttons, and ties to contend with. It seemed as though every Son of Adam walked about with layer upon layer of clothing and he abhorred the lack of freedom that he had in this place.

He began to fumble with the top two buttons of his shirt before he managed to pull it over his head and deposit it casually on the floor. The last remaining garment, the loose fitting boxer shorts, he kept on. Taking a deep breath, he stared for several minutes at the scrawny and unkempt reflection in the mirror.

This alone showed him drastically just how different he felt in this strange world. His feet were turned in somewhat, like a faun's legs. This state was not as defined as it had been in Narnia. His limping somehow caused him to put his weight strictly on the outsides of his feet. In this state, he felt as though he was walking on cinder blocks instead of feet and each step he took carried an element of pain to it. "I feel like a cripple in this state," he mused sadly as he stared at his strangely shaped and hairless legs. "Any Narnian who were to behold me would surely run away in terror. Whatever would Lucy say if she were to see me in this dreadful state?"

His thoughts drifted back to his first days in Spare Oom. He remembered being unable to walk, his body lurching about as he tried to establish his weight over these strange feet. He landed more often than not on his knees, the thin skin scraping against the ground and leaving gaping scars in their wake. When that did not happen, he found himself incessantly stubbing his toes on the various furnishings, the pain indescribable.

"I am but a shadow of what I once was," he whispered under his breath as he shook his head. His gaze continued to take in the aspects of his body. Within minutes he found himself staring at the reflection of his head. All this time he had overlooked it, but now he could clearly see the two round bald spots amidst his curly mass of hair. He raised his hands and touched them, all the while knowing that that was where his horns has once been.

Biting down on his lip, he regarded the rest of his body with disdain. "Aslan warned me of this, but I was so convinced that I could do it," his words continued as he managed to back away from the mirror and slowly crawl his way into bed. He pulled the covers over his head. "Now, I'm not so sure if I can."

It was there, concealed by the covers that he allowed himself to cry.


	14. The Task is Given

_First of all, you non-romance fans, please forgive my very (very) slight Tumnus / Lucy moment in this chapter. It cannot be helped, but it is not taken to extreme because she's asleep throughout. This is doubled on the emotion and angst aspect, and after all, it is his love for her that brings him to London in the first place. Without it there'd be no story. _

_Well-wisher: I'm doing my very best to make him not suffer too much. I don't like to see my favorite faun suffer, don't you know?_

_Trecebo: Man I'm so glad you liked what I did with that last chapter. I really wanted to write something completely different that no one else had done. I am glad to read that I was somewhat successful there._

_Fledge: I hope that this chapter clears up the whole 'chosen one' concept. I tried to make sure that Aslan was really clear on that. (I just pray to God that I didn't take him out of character, and that if I did, the Aslan fans will forgive me for it.) I also hope that the very tiny romance aspect in this chapter is not cliché. I am trying really hard to make this a different kind of love, and not the normal boy meets girl stuff (or in this case girl meets faun hehehehe)._

_Asian Novelist: I'm glad you like it, I have been trying throughout to keep this story with a very different storyline. It makes me happy to know that I've managed to catch people's attention with it._

_Save the Pandas: Regarding your comment. Yes, that aspect of things was probably the hardest chapter I have ever written with anything. To explain, I spent the entire vacation thinking about how to present that chapter and it was most definitely not easy. I basically had to pretend that I was completely a stranger to Narnia and the whole allegory at the end of 'The Last Battle'. Massively difficult to conceptualize, but to answer your critique, no Susan is not going to die here, this was just Rachel's interpretation of what Thomas/Tumnus was trying to explain. As I said, massively difficult to write!_

_Rachel will eventually come around though, otherwise the story will seriously drag and I don't want to bore anyone._

_Enjoy and as always, reviews are love. Will I break 100 with this chapter? Who knows? All the same, this chapter is for you!

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**Chapter 13: The Task is Given**

The sounds of the shutters banging against the window frame caused Thomas to raise his head. His face was streaked with tears, the red lines along his face, the indication that he had cried himself to sleep. He blinked a few times and tried to push the blankets away. When he finally managed, he could see the light of a new day peering into the room.

He pulled the covers aside and pushed himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, his body somehow stiff and sore from the overwhelming emotion of the night before. As soon as the blanket had been discarded, he shivered slightly as he felt the cool breeze wafting into the room and encasing him. Slowly, he got to his feet and started to make his way to the window. He quickly secured the shutters before closing the window completely and returning to the bed. The light still filtered into the room from between the shutters, but he did not care. It was Saturday, and he would not be due at work until three that afternoon.

Thank heavens for small favors, he thought as he rubbed his face and once more crawled back under the covers to the sanctuary beneath the sheets.

What a nightmare that had been, he though sadly as he closed his eyes. He had not cried like that in years. In a way it felt good, but it also carried an odd sense in his heart. It was clear that something inside of him had burst and he could do nothing to stop it.

"Lucy, how I wish you were here to comfort me as you have done so often in the past," he whispered to the stillness. "It seems all so long ago."

He crawled on top of the covers and lay amidst them, his face meshed against the pillow, his vision blurred by the persistent tears.

**Flashback to Narnia**

Soon after Tumnus had made his spontaneous announcement to Peter and Edmund, the two Pevensie brothers left Lucy's small house. Both of them knew that there was very little to be done, Lucy was asleep, and the faun was taking care of her.

As the sounds of the two horses trotting footsteps dissipated in the distance, he closed the door and returned to her side. An envelope lay on the table with a small note that Peter had scrawled out prior to leaving. Otherwise the house was as it had been before their visit.

A soft snore emerged from between Lucy's pursed lips, and he allowed a soft chuckle to emerge as he sat staring down at her sleeping form. She had once called him her 'guardian angel', because more often than not, she would awaken to see him sitting in this stance watching over her. He would say not word, but his eyes would regard her with all the love that he carried for her. He had always desired nothing more than to protect her from the tempests beyond.

Smiling, he remembered how she had woken the morning after he had found the courage to confess his love to her. She said not a word, but gently raised her head and had given him a gentle, but chaste, kiss. "It is a dream come true to awaken to see you watching over me like that," she had whispered to him, her skinny arms reaching out to him and winding their way around him.

He had stiffened at first, but then suddenly relaxed. He knew that he loved her and now the awareness of her love towards him had left him in a state of shock. He blushed slightly as he remembered that moment. He took a deep breath. "I will always remember you, no matter where I go or the distance that may arise between us." Leaning down, he planted a gentle kiss to her unmoving lips.

"I remember when you left Narnia the first time, you were but a child, looking at me and instead of seeing a traitor, you beheld a friend. Your simple words, 'But, Mr. Tumnus, I thought you were my friend', somehow echoing through my mind and those words alone made me realize just how precious you are." He brushed a lock of her hair aside and smiled slightly when she did not stir. "As the years passed, I grew to love you and I saw in you a sense of greatness. You always kept the faith and you carried it as warrior carries a shield."

He took a deep breath, all the while not hearing that the front door had opened and closed. "I remember the day I told you that you must call me 'Tumnus' without the formalities. You smiled and said, 'the others are waiting, we'll talk about this after we catch the stag'. That never happened, you disappeared from Narnia unexpectedly. I waited for you to come back never quite knowing what had happened. It was not until we were reunited that you told me the details of the hunt. Years later, your image constantly filtered through my mind, your smile a permanent fixture in my world. Lucy, today I realize that this may be your turn to wait for me to come home instead of the other way around..."

Getting choked up, he stopped speaking, his last words hanging in the air. He wiped his hand over his face to smear away the stray tear that had fallen from beneath one of his eyes. Looking down at her motionless face, he smiled slightly.

Her eyes were still closed, her soft lashes curved down and giving her face the appearance of a porcelain doll. He got to his hooves, went over to the other sofa, removed the quilt, shook it out, and gently covered her with it. He kept his movements slow and deliberate so as to not awaken her. Eventually, he managed to sit down on a foot stool next to her. His hand, he reached over and stroked her face.

"I offered to go, my dearest, so you would not have to," he whispered. "I told them that I would go to Spare Oom and find your sister. I would sacrifice everything for you and for no one else. It is all I can do to show you the extent of the love I hold for you." As he spoke, he brushed a lock of Lucy's long reddish brown hair away from her face. "Did I ever tell you that you are so lovely when you sleep?"

For whatever reason, his thoughts abruptly shifted and returned to the day he had spelled her with his flute. Just like that day, his heart carried an indescribable heaviness to it. Unlike that day, today he felt as though he was doing something right, but it was a scary proposition. If Aslan approved, then he would have to say good-bye to her. To him it was worth it if he could see Lucy happy and not broken up about her sister's fate.

He took a deep and staggering breath. "I said it for you," he repeated these words and was surprised when a gentle voice emerged.

"Yes you did."

He raised his head and turned around to see that a large golden lion was now standing in the doorway. "Aslan," he whispered the lion's name as he licked his dry lips, his eyes closing as he bowed his head humbly. As he did, the tears once more peeked out from the corners of his eyes and forced a trail of moisture down his cheek.

"Your message has reached me, Son of the Forest," the lion spoke, his voice soft. "Come, we must speak, but not here, the child needs her rest."

With shaky and wobbling legs, Tumnus managed to get to his hooves. He turned back around and stared momentarily at Lucy before joining the lion at the door. He cast a wary glance back inside the house before closing the door behind him. "You heard what I said?"

"Much of it yes, but not to worry, my dear Tumnus, your declarations are safe with me," his golden eyes shone, thus indicating that the lion was smiling. "She will sleep peacefully until you return," he repeated.

"You truly know of my feelings and are not angry?" The faun managed to ask, his voice cracking.

"Yes, and it pleases me greatly to know that you would sacrifice so much for Lucy Pevensie," he said.

"I-I love her, I could not do otherwise," Tumnus managed to speak, his head downcast. "That is alright, isn't it?"

"I never implied that it wasn't," Aslan said simply. "You have a great capacity to love and you have defined it through the willingness to make a sacrifice."

"I don't know," he said, his voice unconvincing. "Who's to say whether the idea holds any sort of merit? It is you who must decide whether or not it is even feasible."

"It is feasible as the idea was born in your spirit, Tumnus. This was no accident. There are no accidents, there are merely strokes of inspiration," Aslan said. "Yet, through it all, I must tell you that the risks are great, perhaps far greater than anything you can imagine."

"I don't care, I would take all the risks that came to me if it meant that Lucy is once more happy here in Narnia," he said firmly.

Aslan nodded approvingly at the faun's insistence. "It is said that the greatest love that exists in all of Narnia and beyond, is the love that emanates from the one who is called a friend. The love you hold for Lucy has enabled you to speak of making the ultimate sacrifice. You realize this, do you not?"

"I think so, but Aslan, is it wrong for me to love her?" Tumnus asked, his voice cracking.

Aslan shook his head, the velvety mane flowing like golden waves along the shoreline. "To love another is not wrong, my son. To care so much for another is a gift unlike any other. You have spent much of your life, my dear Tumnus, trying to make up to Lucy the things that might have been instead of basking in the glories of what actually was. You spent many an hour ignoring what has come about and dwelling upon questions of 'what if?'. You chose not to turn her over to Jadis during that first day. Today, I say to you, the love you share should never be born from guilt and sorrow. It is a far deeper magic, far more powerful than all things. It is that, which holds Narnia together."

"I don't understand, something besides you holds Narnia together?" Tumnus asked softly. "Forgive me, but Aslan I always believed it was you."

Aslan chuckled from deep within his throat, but cocked his head to one side. As he did this, he regarded the faun through loving golden eyes. "Love has the potential to hold all things together, my dear friend. That is the most powerful force in all the universe. It gives you courage and strength to face all of the trials and tribulations that you will come upon. It builds you up and makes you do things that fear may use to destroy. This is your gift, and it is the gift that you shall take with you when you return to the world of men."

"You mean you're going to let me go?" Tumnus asked, his throat dry.

"I must, for the love you carry for Lucy will not permit any other option," he said, his voice a soft purr. "With this allowance comes a warning. Tumnus, this task will not be easy for you. It means that you shall be away from Narnia for many a year and will live as a Son of Adam in the land you call 'Spare Oom'."

"I can do that," he said.

"Do not be so quick to assume this," the mighty lion said softly. "There will be struggles that you must contend with, as well as memory loss. You will not know your name or from where you come. You will experience physical as well as emotional setbacks. Your body is not accustomed to living that of a man, and although it is within my power to change you, I cannot change you completely. You walk differently as a faun, and that will ultimately be a struggle for you. You must accustom yourself to the harshness of the human world, and memories of Narnia will act as a hindrance to you."

"Do you mean I will forget?" He asked, his face losing its color.

"For a time yes, but when you find Susan Pevensie, you will begin to remember, as she is your task. You must enter Spare Oom one step at a time. Your physical differences will assist in recovering your memory. As you remember more and more about yourself, then you will know that the time will be at hand for you to seek the chosen one."

"The chosen one? I thought that was Queen Susan," he said softly.

Aslan shook his head. "There is another, a Daughter of Eve whom I have chosen. You shall know her for she will hear my voice in her heart. When you remember me, you will know that she will be ready. It will take time for her to fully understand, but in time, she will and it will be she who will help you to convey to Susan that Narnia has always been there for her. You will not be alone, there will be others who will help you along. These individuals will not always know who you are or from where you come."

"If I can survive a hundred years of winter, then I must be able to survive this," he said softly. "I must. My heart aches for the chance to show that I am a loyal subject to you and to Narnia."

Aslan shook his head. "You must not prove anything to me, Tumnus, for you have shown your loyalties time and again. You are free from the persecution of the past."

"Thank you," he whispered as he lowered his head.

"Now then, I shall grant you your wish and by the end of the next full moon, you shall become a Son of Adam and journey to a place called Birmingham. There you will find three men dressed in black who shall help you. Through their assistance you will begin an undertaking of learning. All of these things will enable you to help find my daughter and bring her home."

"Will she come?" He asked.

"Perhaps not immediately, but your interaction with her will inspire something grand in her," he said with a slight nod of his head.

"What must I do before I leave?" He asked.

"First and foremost, you must speak with Lucy and tell her what we have spoken of. You shall have the days leading up to the full moon to make ready. It will be a long and hard voyage, my friend, but when it is over, you shall return to Narnia and be proclaimed a hero."

"A hero?" Tumnus stammered. "A hero accomplishes something, Lord, I have yet to accomplish anything. Who's to say that when the time comes, Susan Pevensie will accept or believe in anything I have to say?"

"That is the greatest risk of all, I'm afraid, but I do know that you are the one chosen to undertake it, Tumnus," Aslan said.

The faun nodded and without thinking, he embraced the lion briefly before backing away and returning to the house.

**Flashback End**

After some time had passed and he grew uncomfortable lying in this position against the now tear soaked pillow, he got to his feet. Wiping the last of the moisture away, he decided that it was a good idea to have some breakfast, and get dressed for work. He was not sure if he would even see Rachel that day, as the interns worked strange shifts there. He was hopeful that he would find a spare moment to speak with her before she followed through with her threat and rang the police.

At the same time, he also knew that time was running out and he would have to see Susan as soon as possible, spend time with her, and hope that she would take the truth better than Rachel had done.

"I would have to take everything very slowly," he whispered under his breath, these words emerging as a soft whistle. He went into the bathroom to freshen up and five minutes later, he emerged, his head wrapped in a towel. He began to pick at his beard as he made his way over to the wardrobe and began to pull clothing out. A white shirt, gray trousers, and his favorite red tie. He smiled slightly as he ran the object between his fingers. For some reason, he found himself feeling especially fond of that particular item.

He pulled the trousers over his boxer shorts and buttoned them. Next, he retrieved the shirt and pulled it over his head. All of his shirts were button down the front, but he only buttoned and unbuttoned the top two buttons.

As he finished getting dressed, he reached for his wallet and began to slide it in the pocket of his pants. As he did, his fingers touched a piece of cloth and he pulled his hand out. He smiled when he recognized that he now held a white handkerchief in his hand. "Lucy," he whispered as a small and confident smile suddenly shadowed his otherwise troubled face.


	15. A Brother Cloaked in Black

_This story is really starting to move. As you noticed, this is the third installment this week. Amazing, considering the fact that I have been working on other projects and not just this story. _

_Before this chapter starts, there are a few things I want to say in relation to this particular story. I am overwhelmed and happy with all the comments folks are leaving for me about the story. I deeply love to read what you all think and am grateful that you take the time to let me know. I have actually used some of the suggestions that my reviewers have left because the ideas were really quite good and fit into the overall premise of the story._

_However, I want to say this straight up. I write whatever I am inspired to write and sometimes don't always have absolute control over what goes to paper. There are times where I will write something and say 'whoa, did I really write that?'. Essentially, what I'm saying is if I want certain aspects in the story, then they will be there. In relation to the romantic aspects, there will be some romance later on, and how much is entirely my decision. I do not wish for it to be the general lovey-dovey stuff, but there will be some present because of the overall theme of this story. With that said, and with consideration for those of you reading, I generally do make note of certain aspects in the author comments at the top of each chapter. Basically, I will not allow someone else to tell me how much or how little of something should be present in my work.  
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_What I do hope to ensure with this story is the trust from the readers that I am capable of telling a good story or weaving a good yarn. Most writers don't always take kindly to others telling them what or how the material should be presented. I am, as you can probably tell by these comments, very protective of my work. These stories do take a lot of time to put together and I will not present something unless I think it's worthy of presenting. For this reason Chapter 12 took me well over three weeks to put together._

_With that said, I sincerely do want to write something that people are going to like and want to read, but I am writing this in a way that I want to, not in the way someone else expects. If I were to write what people expected, then the element of surprise would be lost._

_With that said, here is the next update. Reviews are love.

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**Chapter 14: A Brother Cloaked in Black**

Unbeknownst to Thomas who was getting dressed upstairs, Rachel was downstairs in the portal room of the monastery. Instead of heading for home, she had unwittingly sat down with the intentions of thinking and ultimately fell asleep unnoticed.

As the first lights of dawn sent shadows throughout the room, she could feel the light as it shone through the nearby window and cascaded across her face. Blinking upon feeling it hit her, she slowly sat up and managed to look around.

She leaned over from where she was now sitting and reached for her handbag. Once she had it, she opened it, dug around for a moment, and retrieved a small, pocket-sized mirror. With a soft moan, she began to take in her appearance. Her eyes were swollen and her mouth was turned downward in a tired looking pout.

Still digging through the bag, she realized that she did not have a brush with her. Instead, she used her fingers to comb their way through her hair and pat it into place. Finishing this task, she discovered that she was not entirely satisfied with these attempts, but eventually returned the mirror to the purse before once more trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

Much to her annoyance, she had slept on this hard bench, her back and neck stiff from the uncomfortable conditions, which she had been subjected to. As she shifted herself, she unconsciously began to rub her lower back in the hopes of rubbing some life back into it. At the same time, she wondered what specifically had happened to her the night before. The last thing she remembered was leaving Thomas Jenkins' flat and then nothing. She barely recalled the trip down the stairs much less falling asleep in the portal.

There was no denying that Rachel Friedman was nervous. Clearly, she did not feel as though she belonged here. She was simply not sure how to interpret anything anymore. Everything she had heard seemed rather supernatural in nature. Thomas had spoken as though he knew far more about the afterlife than she did. It was as though he had a keener understanding of death and dying than she. At the same time, she could not let go of the fact that he carried himself in such a peaceful manner.

Shaking her head, she tried without success at dismissing the things that she had been told. Could there have been another way to infer what he was saying, or was her intuition simply going crazy on her? Having lived through wartimes, she realized at a young age that death was nothing to be afraid of. Yet, at this precise moment, she felt as though it was being foretold as Susan Pevensie's only option.

The one statement that Thomas had said that seemed to stick in her mind was: _What Susan is experiencing at this moment is not life, it is nothing more than existence._ For whatever reason, this statement somehow rang truer than anything else he could have possibly said. Perhaps it was that, which scared her more than anything. If Susan was only existing, then was his proposition her only option? Did there exist a way for her to find a new lust for life amidst the tragedy? The more Rachel thought about all of this, the more frightened she became.

She slowly got to her feet and began to run her hands nervously down the front of her skirt and blouse. This was all so strange, she thought. For whatever reason, she found herself doing something she had only seen Thomas Jenkins doing. That is, having dialogues with herself. "Logically, it cannot happen."

As she began to feel the life returning to her tired limbs, the questions continued to rake havoc on her logic. For some strange reason, her thoughts abruptly shifted to a stormy afternoon when she was twelve. A walk in the park had somehow stuck in her mind and she found herself asking 'what if' questions.

What if everything that Dr. Jenkins had said was true? What if all the things that she had heard were real?

She closed her eyes for several minutes and swallowed. "The truth shall set you free," she whispered under her breath as she opened her eyes and read a small placard that hung next to the large wooden door.

Perhaps all that Thomas Jenkins was guilty of was not being articulate like Dickens or Shakespeare when it came to explaining his motivations. "I really didn't give him much of a chance," she muttered under her breath. "A true friend would have listened, but I left before he had even finished and now it is too late and he probably hates me."

She glanced around the room. Somehow, it looked much differently than it did at night. Gone was the spookiness of the old ceilings and archways. She rubbed her face, the tiredness seeming to emanate her. Seconds later, she lowered her hands ran them down over her clothing once more as she turned away from the door. "I just don't understand. I feel as though I have at least three hundred different questions whirling about in my mind and no answers…" she mumbled, not fully thinking anything of it.

As these words emerged from her, she did not hear that the door behind her had opened and closed, a familiar voice suddenly emerging.

"You seem to question quite a lot, correct?" Abruptly, she turned around to see two figures dressed in black standing in the doorway. The man who had spoken had his head down somewhat and she did not recognize him, although his voice sounded strikingly familiar. Her gaze drifted to the second of the two men. This one was an older man wearing a silver cross around his neck.

After a moment, he turned and spoke to his companion. "You know this young woman; do you not, Brother Robert?"

"Yes, we work together, Abbot Ignatius," came the answer. "She's an intern at the hospital."

"I see, well it would seem wise of me to bring her something to eat, would it not?" the abbot said and as quickly as he came, he disappeared back through the doorway. "I shan't be long."

Rachel remained standing stoically and listening to this exchange. Once she was alone with the second man, she raised her head as he came closer. Upon seeing his face, she gasped. "It's you," she managed as she stared with unhidden shock into Robert McMullan's eyes. "But I don't understand, why are you dressed like the boogey-man?"

"I beg your pardon?" Bob spoke, this time his shock did not go undetected. "I should be asking you specifically why are you are here and how you got in. The convent is generally closed at night and Abbot Ignatius thought you might have been a vagrant."

"I can assure you that I am not," she said defensively. She took a deep breath and looked at him, her eyes taking in the black colored monk's habit he wore. "Why are you dressed like that?"

"Well, you see, I don't generally make it a habit of walking about the hospital dressed in this manner. For the job it's terribly impractical and the patients might take me for the boogey-man." He chuckled softly. When he saw her frowning, he continued speaking, his expression laced with earnestness. "I suppose I should not say such things though, I'm still on probation here, two more years to go and then I will take my vows for lifetime commitment."

"Wait a minute, you mean to say that you really are a monk?" She asked.

"Yes, a monk going to medical school trying to finish his degree in psychiatry so that I can take Dr. Jenkins' job when he leaves," Bob said nodding. "That about sums it up."

"I don't believe it," she shook her head.

"Why not? Do you think monks are capable of becoming doctors?" He shot back.

"I didn't say that, I just thought that you did not seem like a monk at work," she said.

"Well, the answer to that is quite simple actually. As you probably learned a long time ago, appearances and behaviors can be quite deceiving at times. I don't play the role of the monk there because I don't seek anyone's favor. If Delores Davenport had known what I was, then she probably would never have tried to tempt me with sweeties and flattering words."

"That would have been good though," she said. "Wouldn't it?"

"Not necessarily," he said as he tucked his hands under the scapular that hung down over the front of his habit. "If she had known about me, then she would have no doubt reacted differently. She construed my behavior at work as weak and insignificant. Through that, she figured that I could be easily bribed or persuaded. Her not knowing provided an advantage to me. I could go to the administration afterwards and complain as a monk in a Benedictine Order. If she had known who I was from the start, then she would not have tried to bribe me, and that was one of the accusations that she now faces."

"Then what you told me the day we met was a lie," Rachel whispered bitterly. "Your future seems to be set in stone."

"No, my future is just as undecided as yours is," he said calmly. "The truth is, when we spoke at work, everything I told you was the truth."

"You could have stood up to her just as Bob, an intern and student of medicine, couldn't you?" She asked.

"Perhaps, but that might have meant that my work at the hospital was at an end," he said. "The truth is, you were the one who had the courage to stand up to Davenport without thinking of the repercussions. That's very brave and it's certainly not something that most people could have done. I could not have done it."

Rachel remained where she was and allowed his words to sink in. After a moment, he continued. "When you saw Davenport mistreating Susan Pevensie, you jumped into the hornets' nest and tried to help her. This showed that woman that you were not one who could be bribed or tricked. You were very brave and perhaps my reaction was not a very monk-like, but I did admire you for what you did."

"It doesn't matter anyway," she said.

"Yes it does. Davenport's gone," he said.

"That still doesn't explain why you have kept the world from knowing that you're a monk," she said indignantly. "It seems as though you are ashamed."

"I'm not ashamed, I'm still sort of getting used to it. I have to accustom myself to the stares and the whispering that seems to follow me about when I am away from here." He shrugged his shoulders and led her over to the bench. "Perhaps the one who understands that better than anyone else is Thomas Jenkins."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he doesn't say anything, but you can see it in people's eyes if you look close enough. They stare at him, some have even called him cruel names. He does a great job pretending that he doesn't notice it, but I think he does. Perhaps that's the reason he has taken up residency here, because in this place, he's surrounded by people who understand his situation and his differences."

"That's really sad," Rachel whispered.

Bob nodded. "It's part of life."

"Does Dr. Jenkins know about you?"

Bob nodded. "Let me put it this way, his first question was to ask me if monks were actually allowed to smoke or do the things that he had seen me doing at the hospital."

"Are you?" She asked. "I mean, is it not against some sort of rule for you to smoke?"

"It's not so much a question of allowance as a question of will," he smiled as he cocked his head to one side. "Actually, I've been considering quitting because the smoking doesn't help when I sing."

Rachel took a deep breath wanting to respond, but he continued to speak, his next question breaking into her thoughts, and thus completely changing the subject.

"So tell me, how did you get in here anyway?"

"I came here last with Dr. Jenkins, he wanted to talk to me about something," she said honestly. "After a time, he said something that scared me and I left his flat. The next thing I knew, I woke up here. To be totally honest, I'm not really sure why I came with him in the first place."

"Are you and Jenkins involved?" Bob asked directly.

"No! Of course not!" she said, her voice raising several decibels and she shook her head. "I'm still trying to figure out my own life, I don't need to get involved with him to complicate things even further."

"But you do like him?" Bob asked.

"I like him, but not in that way. Besides, from what he says, he has a girlfriend. Even if I were to like him in that way, there'd be no hope."

"Are you disappointed?" He asked.

"No," she said and shrugged her shoulders sadly. "The truth is, he scares me. Last night when we were talking, he started telling me all these strange and scary things. You weren't there, you didn't hear what he said. I had started to see him as a friend, like that older brother I never really had," she shook her head as Bob sat down and motioned for her to do the same. "Bob…" her voice trailed off. "…Should I still call you that or is there something else you'd prefer?"

"Why do you ask? Is there someone else going by another name?"

"Yes, Dr. Jenkins has another name, but he doesn't use it here," she said.

"I wasn't aware of that," he said. "But to answer your question, you can just call me Bob, that's how I introduced myself when we first met."

"OK," she managed.

"Now, tell me what happened," he said. "You look a little spooked."

"I don't really know, that's the problem. We sat down for tea and he started telling this story of sorts. As peculiar as it sounds, I really wanted to believe him," she shook her head sadly. "We talked for about half an hour and then I got up and left. I couldn't take anymore, I was getting scared and he was telling me stuff that I had heard before. It was stuff that Lucy Pevensie told me when we were kids."

"What did she tell you?" He asked.

"Well, there was this one conversation that we had right after the first day of school. I couldn't have been much older than twelve when we had this dialogue. It was stormy afternoon and we had left the boarding school to go to the park. We had a few hours to ourselves before we were due back for supper. She and I both had this thing about the swing-sets there. The way they would creak as we were swinging was somehow like walking through an old haunted house. I guess we wanted to see how high we could go, to touch the sky…" Her voice trailed off, but after a moment's silence, she continued. "…That afternoon, Lucy sat as still as a statue and eventually started telling me about this place that she visited during the summer when she was eight. I guess she figured enough time had passed between her adventure and that moment that she could talk openly about it."

"What was it?" He asked. "What did she say?"

Rachel shook her head. "She didn't say a lot, she left much to the imagination. I mean; it wasn't an incredibly long conversation, she seemed nervous when it came to talking about it. For some reason, I suddenly remembered it after I spoke to Dr. Jenkins last night. These were things that I thought I had forgotten, but that I'm now remembering them and I cannot explain for the life of me why."

"Some things are actually more prolific without explanation," he said.

"Maybe," she mused. "But, then again, maybe not."

"Just tell me what happened then," he said.

Rachel took a deep breath, her gaze lowering as she glanced outside. The sun was now hidden behind the gray colored clouds. As she stared at them, she contemplated how these things were once more paralleling with her past. She somehow was being drawn to all three instances at once; the dialogue with Lucy, the confidence with Bob, as well as the conversation she had with Thomas Jenkins.

As her voice filtered shakily through the room, she could feel herself literally being tossed back to that time in her life where stories and fairy tales were believable. It was a time that, during the past few hours, had literally engulfed her.

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_Just a side note, this chapter does lead into another of Rachel's flashback. Stay tuned.  
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	16. A Memory Unfolds

_a/n: Welcome to the latest installment to this story. I may or may not be so quick with the next chapter, as I am hanging a little bit on it. I am also trying to write some more with Susan and want to do more than just write her in this room as a prisoner of sorts. This means, I have to wait for inspiration to bowl me over. Here's hoping that it will go as well this week as it did last week._

_Fledge: Yes I agree with too many coincidences taking away from the realism of the overall story, so I tried to iron out some of those coincidences in this chapter. Ultimately, I would really like to maintain the element of surprise with this. Thanks for sticking with it, even if some of those coincidences are rather 'coincidental' (to coin a phrase)._

_MegastarMog: Yes, I like Bob too, and his character is actually based on a monk I met. I won't give any names, but as I was writing his dialogue, some of it came straight from dialogues I had with this monk. So, some of what you are reading is really quite life-like. Another thing to note, the monastery portal where the dialogue between Rachel and Bob take place is actually a real place that I visited last year (not in London, but rather in Germany, but almost the same layout). Thanks too for your support about the 'creative liberties' of a story. I wanted to make sure that readers were aware that I do accept suggestions and ideas, but when it comes to these other aspects of my stories (how much and how little)...well, I'm a bit protective, since it is my work and not theirs. If I wrote with all those considerations in mind, then the story would be much different than intended.  
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_Trecebo: I made Bob a monk because I thought that it would fit with the whole trying to stay out of the realm of other character romances with other characters. I didn't want to turn the focus away from the 'overall' premise, and I thought that ideally I could make Bob a bit 'unreachable', and that would keep the focus where it needed to be._

_This is a continuation of the previous chapter, that actually starts as a flashback. I hope you enjoy this, and as always, reviews are love.

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**Chapter 15:**** A Memory Unfolds **

**Flashback**

The sky over the school was rumbling from an approaching thunderstorm as twelve-year-old Rachel Friedman walked slowly away from the large brown colored school buildings. Her feet scraped along the ground and her head was lowered, her pigtails bobbing up and down in rhythm with her steps.

This had to have been the most embarrassing day of my life, she thought as she pulled the strap of her school bag further up on her shoulder. Instead of returning it to the dormitory, she practically fled from her last class with it. She figured that she would stay away from the school until the time would come when she was expected back for supper.

"Hey, Friedman, wait for me," a voice emerged from behind her and she turned to see that Lucy Pevensie, one of her classmates, was now running towards her.

She stopped walking and waited for the other girl to catch up. Like Rachel, Lucy carried a matching brown school satchel, thus indicating that Lucy had the same idea in mind. As she ran, the object slapped against her side, but that seemed not to matter, Lucy simply stopped and slid the strap it over her head so that it would not trip her up.

"How was your summer?" Lucy asked out of breath once she reached her.

"Thank goodness it was better than my arithmetic," Rachel mused, her voice a cross between a pout and a grumble.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad," Lucy said optimistically. "I thought your answer was quite clever actually. Who would have thought that an apple and orange equation could have answers that interesting."

"The teacher didn't think it was all that amusing, she was literally breathing fire," she said. "I got detention on the first day of school. Tomorrow, I have to stay late and clean the blackboards or something. My mum's going to kill me when she discovers that bit of news. I may as well plan on staying here indefinitely."

Lucy took a deep breath. "Forget it. By Christmas break, your parents will have forgotten all about it and greet you with open arms."

"You seem awfully sure of that," Rachel said and Lucy giggled.

"Of course, by the time you come home for the holidays, your mum's going to be so happy to see you that she'll smother you with kisses," Lucy offered freely as the two girls continued to walk, their steps in precise rhythm with one another.

"Perhaps," Rachel mused. "But getting smothered with kisses doesn't sound like very much fun."

Lucy nodded in concurrence as they reached the park. As Rachel started in the direction of the swings, something caught Lucy's eye and she stopped and stared. Two beavers had emerged from their burrow and were scurrying about.

"Are you alright?" Rachel stopped and turned around, her voice breaking into Lucy's reverie.

"I guess," Lucy mused and she started to walk towards her. As she came closer, the beavers stopped what they were doing, looked up, and ran to the safety of their burrow.

"What do you suppose spooked them?" Rachel mused.

"You," Lucy snapped. "You're stomping about like a man in combat boots."

"What's with you?" Rachel asked, her voice getting somewhat huffy. "They're just beavers."

"You wouldn't understand," Lucy whispered. "Sometimes I don't even understand."

"What is it? Why are you always happy one minute and miserable the next?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know," Lucy responded, her voice soft. She remained silent for several moments, and then abruptly, found her voice. "Rachel, have you ever known something, but were afraid to tell anyone about it?"

"Sure, everyone's had that happen at least once in their life, it's nothing to get upset about," she said.

"No, I'm talking about a really great secret. One that you would not trust to anyone. At the same time, you know that if you were to keep it to yourself, that you'd positively burst. It's rather like. I wish I could talk freely about it to someone besides my brothers," Lucy said.

"Why can't you?" Rachel asked.

Hesitantly, Lucy looked around where they were standing. When she noticed that they were alone she took a deep breath. After several moments of awkward silence passed, she shook her head. "I can't, if I say anything, you'd probably think I have the madness and stick the school psychologist on me."

´"No, I won't," Rachel said. "You can trust me."

"I don't know," Lucy hedged. "I mean; it all happened four years ago, during the war when we were sent to the countryside to live. I all felt so real, but then afterwards, Susan insisted that it was pretend."

"Susan's a twit," Rachel said bluntly.

"She's my sister," Lucy said indignantly.

"Alright, but sometimes her playing grown up is a crashing bore," Rachel said bluntly as she looked at Lucy and watched her offer a reluctant nod.

Several minutes later, they stopped when they reached a swing set. It was a large wooden structure that was positioned in the middle of the grassy meadow. On one side was a large teeter-totter and on the other, a matching wooden sandbox. Once the two girls had leaned their bags against the wooden edge of the sandbox, they went over to the swings.

Once they had each seated themselves, Lucy watched wordlessly as Rachel immediately began to swing herself back and forth. Instead of joining her friend, who was now gaily laughing, she remained unmoving. Her arms were casually wrapped around the large ropes on either side of the wooden swing. She kept her gaze staring down at the ground, and seemed lost in thought.

Eventually, Rachel suddenly noticed how Lucy was sitting unmoving. She stopped, her feet now dragging against the earth. Once the swing had completely ceased moving, she looked at Lucy. Gone was the optimistic smile, and in its place, the shadow of an unhappy young girl remained.

"What's the matter?" She asked. "You still thinking about those beavers?"

"No," Lucy lied.

"Then what is it?" Rachel insisted.

"If you promise me not to judge me, then I will you a little bit about what I've been thinking about," Lucy said softly. "Will you promise?"

"Of course."

"Cross your heart?"

"Lucy, don't you think we're a little too old for that?" Rachel asked.

Lucy thought for a moment and then began to speak. "It started over four years ago when I found this portal at Professor Kirke's house. It was in this old wardrobe, in the spare room. My brothers, sister, and I were playing hide and seek, and after a while, I went into this large wardrobe to hide. It was there where my life changed."

"Playing in a wardrobe can change your life?" Rachel asked skeptically.

"It wasn't just a wardrobe, there was a place, a magical place and a new friend," she inhaled sharply not sure if she had said too much. "His name was Mr. Tumnus, and he invited me for tea. At first I wanted to refuse, but he was so insistent that I eventually said yes. We went to his home and sat together talking, drinking tea, and eating sardines. He told me many stories of this place, but in the end, something happened and he confessed to me that he was trying to kidnap me. In this state, he cried."

"What happened after that?"

"He helped me find my way back, and that was it. Or so I thought," Lucy said softly. "You see, I went back, and there, I fell in love with Mr. Tumnus."

"How could you possibly have fallen in love?" Rachel asked. "You were eight-years old at the time, and people that age don't fall in love, Lucy."

"I know that, but there, in that place, I wasn't eight. I was close to twenty and more beautiful. Almost as pretty as Susan," Lucy said.

"But boys are so ghastly," Rachel looked at her, but when she saw the sadness that still lurked in the eyes of her friend, she took a deep breath. "OK, so you fell in love with this Mr. Tumnus, right?" It was clear that she believed not a word, but was trying to humor her friend.

"Yes," Lucy whispered. "I was a grown up and he really liked me and I could tell that he cared for me because he always held me when I was upset or crying. He would tell stories and read me poetry. We would dance together and he would play music on his flute for me. Then at night, we would sit on the floor in his cave…"

"…Cave?" Rachel asked, thus interrupting her.

"Well, it was his home. It was filled with books and other mementos. Anyway, he would brew me a cup of tea just like I liked it with three lumps of sugar and lots of milk," Lucy said. "We'd eat sardines on toast and watch the stars as they peeked out from a black velvet night." She took a deep breath. "I never thought I would miss someone as much as I do him."

"Have you told anyone about this?" Rachel asked.

Lucy shook her head. "How can I? Everyone would think I have the madness if I said a word. My brothers both go to another school and they don't write."

"It sounds like a wonderful place and a really special friend, though," Rachel said trying to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

"It was. He was so kind. I wish you could have met him," she said softly as she got up and started to slowly walk away.

As the other girl left her alone, Rachel was left standing alone and staring at Lucy's retreating back. She knew that there was no point in continuing to ask Lucy questions about this person, because she did not believe a word of it.

"She's got such a wonderful imagination," Rachel mused under her breath as soon as Lucy was out of earshot.

Eventually, she slid off the swing and started to follow the other girl back in the direction of the school. As she walked, she could feel the first drops of rain as it began to fall. Quickening her pace, she broke into a run.

**Flashback End**

As Rachel finished speaking, she noticed that a tray of fruit was now sitting on the small table in front of her. It was at that moment that she realized that the abbot must have brought it for her. She slowly reached for an apple, but looked at Bob. "This little story that Lucy told me that day parallels somehow with what Dr. Jenkins had said last night. How can two people tell the same story?"

"I don't know, it all seems awfully coincidental that he would tell you a story that is similar to something you perceived as fantasy. Whatever the case, something must have sparked these memories in you, and perhaps that is no accident," Bob said.

"She told me later what the place was called, but I forgot," Rachel said as she took a bite of the apple and chewed it. Once she swallowed, she continued. "I just want to understand why I'm remembering all of this now."

"Maybe you're supposed to. Perhaps that link to Lucy is what will ultimately help Susan. I know that it sounds awfully odd of me say, but this is not so much about you as it is about Susan. You told me a while back that you attended school with Lucy Pevensie, that is not so strange when you consider the number of girls' boarding schools that are scattered about London's suburbs. Every so often I run across an old mate from my days in Glasgow. That's an even grander coincidence, but it does happen now and again." Shrugging his shoulders, he reached for an orange and began to peel it.

"It still makes no sense," she said.

"Perhaps you should stop trying to make everything into a logical equation and simply accept it. There is something in Thomas Jenkins' words and ideas that are enabling you remember Lucy Pevensie. Even if what you remember is her death and how tragic that moment in your life was," he said. "In understanding your sense of loss in relation to Lucy, he can better understand Susan's plight."

"Perhaps," she said. "Lucy and I became closer friends after that conversation and she started telling me about this place time and again. I started to really envy her luck in finding such good friends through it. I was always a sort of loner and after some days of hearing about it, I started looking for it myself. I would open doors to wardrobes with the hopes of feeling a breeze against my face. Although I never did, it did not stop me from sitting inside large wardrobes and staring at the paneling. I hoped beyond all hope that maybe there existed some truth to it. Maybe I could leave my lonely little existence and go into a place where I could feel like a queen."

"So essentially Dr. Jenkins has managed to open those wounds up in you, right?" He asked. When she nodded, he continued. "Then it really is no wonder you ran away from him last night."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Rachel, I myself have met people before who reminded me of things that I wish I could have forgotten. Yet, it was through the meeting that I gained a greater understanding of myself. I experienced that very same idea when I made the conscious choice to come here and devote my life to God," he said.

"But what does it all mean, and why am I remembering things that happened ten years ago?" She asked. "Before last night, I had completely forgotten everything."

"Perhaps you are not intended to forget. Maybe that's part of Thomas Jenkins' task. He wants to help Susan, but maybe he's trying to do so through your memories of Lucy. Whatever the case, there must be a reason behind it. I no longer believe that your meeting up with him was mere chance."

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Well, if that doesn't help then maybe I should put it simply. Try to remember those dialogues with Lucy from your childhood, it may be key to helping Susan."

"It doesn't make sense though," she said, the tears catching in her eyes. "In my heart, I really want to believe him. My mind, however doesn't. It keeps telling me that I should stop trying to play with childish fancies and deal with him logically."

"Let me guess, those two parts of you are in conflict. Your heart is saying that he is trying to help her. Your mind is saying that he's hurting you and thus, would ultimately hurt her."

"I don't understand, you're talking in riddles."

"It's quite simple actually. Thomas Jenkins has the ability to touch on the things that cause you pain and you have concluded that because it hurts you; it would hurt Susan." He stopped speaking and looked over at her. When she hesitantly nodded, he continued.

"When I saw Susan do that archery thing in the recreation room, I thought I was dreaming or that someone was playing a really cruel prank on me. Then I went and found Dr. Jenkins and told him about it. He looked as though he knew more than he was saying and we immediately went to the monitoring station to check the feedback. He watched her on the video display screen and was rather taken aback by what he had seen. He went on to explain to me that Susan knew exactly what she was doing and that she was apparently a specialist in archery."

"Perhaps, but what about all those other strange things he's been saying and doing?" She asked. "Talking to himself in Susan's room, for instance."

"Well, for what its worth, you did it too," he said. "Just now when Abbot Ignatius and I came in here, you were talking to yourself as well."

"Maybe," she whispered.

"Rachel, you said that monks don't smoke and you have all these fixed ideas in your mind about what is normal or natural for us. Perhaps what you must first do is listen with your heart and allow that to help you reevaluate what your definitions of normal are. I don't think for even an instant that Dr. Jenkins is crazy. Perhaps if anything, he's a man on a mission. He's a good person and doesn't deserve to be made into a laughingstock. He's got enough problems trying to fit into a society that has automatically shunned him because of his disability."

"But what if that mission is suicide?" Rachel asked feebly.

"Did he say suicide?" Bob asked pointedly. "Or did you interpret his words to mean suicide?"

"No, he said that Susan was existing and not living," she admitted.

"Well, he's right with that summation," came the matter-of-fact response. "Most of the patients at 'Pleasantville' are. They're so pumped full of drugs that they have ceased to live or know what living is even about. Why else do you suppose I am trying to get my degree so I can practice there? I want to help those poor people rediscover the joy in living. I don't want to give them a mountain of reasons to lose hope. There's much more to living than just watching 'Leave it to Beaver' on some broken down old television set in a recreation room."

"What should I do?" She asked.

"All I can tell you is to consider the possibility that Thomas Jenkins' mission may have been misinterpreted and he is telling the truth," Bob rested his hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes, the truth is not going to be black and white, but rather consisting of many colors. These colors represent possibilities. Just don't be so logical about it and don't try to force your interpretations onto him. Hear him out, he's not one of those guys who are so good with words, but I think his intentions are genuine."

"So hearing the truth can set you free?" Rachel asked.

"Yes," he said as he stood up and fished a package from his pocket. With a motion bordering on ceremony, he handed it to her. "Here, I won't be needing these anymore."

She nodded as she felt what looked to be a small crumpled up package was placed in her hand. "What should I do with this?" She asked when she recognized a half empty package of cigarettes in her hand.

"Well, don't take it up if that's what you're thinking," he said with a wink. "Maybe you can deposit it in the waste bin outside for me."

"I will," she said smiling as she too stood up and watched as he ran his hand down the front of his habit. As he started towards the door, she spoke. "Bob?"

"Yes?" He turned around.

"What made you decide to quit smoking?" She asked.

"I don't know," he smiled. "Maybe the realization that it was a stupid thing to do." He took a deep breath. "Are you going to be alright?"

"I think so," she nodded. "Thanks for the talk."

"No problem, I'll see you later," he said and paused before speaking once again. "What are you going to do, now?"

"I don't know," she said softly, her gaze once more on the glass door. "The truth will set you free, huh?"

Bob nodded and started towards the other door. Without even offering an answer to her question, he left the room.

As she watched his cloaked form leaving, she glanced down to the crumpled up package of cigarettes that were now in her hand. Not knowing what more to do, she stared at the image of a large golden lion and the words 'Made in Narni, Italy' covering the package.

"This must be a dream," she whispered, but started to pinch her arm. She closed her eyes and then opened them again.

Still in the portal of the monastery, she shook her head and stood up. The cigarette package she quickly stuffed into the pocket of her skirt and started slowly towards the glass door.

* * *

_As a side note: There is really a town in Italy called Narni, which I think is just fabulous to make note of here. If they produce cigarettes there, then it is purely coincidental. I just thought that the idea of the cigarette package with the lion's image was too inspiring to just ignore. No, I don't promote smoking at all, but it was a good prop to use._


	17. The Truth Will Set You Free

_I love inspiration, it comes along at the most convenient times and gives me something truly wonderful to continue with. I hope that you enjoy this chapter. The future chapters will return us to Susan (that block is gone)._

_Thanks again to all my lovely reviewers for their comments, you know who you are._

_Now for some individual remarks._

_Draignathair: (Hope I spelled that right) & Valmarien. Welcome to the story, I'm so glad that you are both enjoying it and getting something out of my work. I am having a delightful time writing it and your enjoyment is a blessing to me. Thanks so much!_

_Trecebo: Yes, as I said in the last chapter in my comments, this monk that I met was the personification of Bob. I love tossing little surprises like this in the stories. Keeps you on your toes, don't it?_

_MegastarMog: Yes, I like to throw a few facts into the mixture and the future chapters will have a dosage of facts for history buffs. Not just Narnian History, but other aspects of history as well. I think that this is going to be a very long story, hopefully not boring. There are lots of small things I am finding myself wanting to add to it._

_Fledge: Yes, beavers in a London park are odd. I wanted to use them as a catalyst for Lucy, so I hope that no one will harbor any ill against me for using them. No beavers were hurt in the writing of this story. eg_

_Now on with the chapter. Enjoy and no matter how big or small, I love reviews and appreciate them. Again, there is no romance between Rachel and Thomas / Tumnus before anyone asks.

* * *

_

**Chapter 16: The Truth Will Set You Free**

Rachel made her way back towards the door leading into the stairwell. She slowly ascended the stairs and at the landing, she walked shyly in the direction of Thomas Jenkins' door. Not knowing what to do, she raised her fist with the intention of knocking, but stopped as the door abruptly swung open. Before she could even say a word, the man coming out into the hallway practically plowed into her.

Stumbling somewhat, he raised his head to see that she was standing winded in the hallway in front of him. As his feet suddenly give out, his entire weight fell against her. Had she not reacted quickly, both of them would have fallen and landed on the tiled floor.

"I've got you," she managed, her breath literally being forced from her. She wrapped her arms around him in an awkward half-embrace. Seconds later, she noticed that he seemed to be steadied on his feet, and she lowered her arms. "A-are you alright, Dr. Jenkins?"

He shook his head as he rested one of his hands against the frame of the door. "I think I may have knocked the wind out of myself is all," he managed. "Rachel, w-what are you doing here?"

"I sort of spent the night downstairs. I don't even remember leaving, but I know I did, because I woke up in the portal room on that hard bench," she said, her voice rushed, but at the same time filled with nervous insecurity.

He nodded as he lowered his head. As he did, she took note of the two small bald patches that covered either side of his head. She wanted to reach out and touch them, but something made her stop and instead she backed away from him.

"Dr. Jenkins?" She spoke. When he did not raise his head acknowledge her, she took a deep breath. "Tumnus?"

He raised his head, his blue eyes widening in surprise as he swallowed. "Y-yes," he managed. As the stammered word emerged, she watched as he began to fidget nervously. With one hand, he began to run it anxiously through his unkempt curly locks of hair. As he did this, his hand brushed against the very same spots that Rachel had wanted to touch only moments before.

"At least that got your attention," she began, her words still emerging filled with apprehension. "If you don't mind my saying so, you look about as horrid as I feel. Is there anything I can do for you?"

He closed his eyes. "No," he whispered softly, his voice carrying traces of damaged pride. "I'm fine. I was just on my way to work."

She looked at him. "I don't believe that, it's Saturday, and you aren't scheduled to be there until this afternoon."

"I will not lie to you then. I was hoping that I could talk to Susan this morning," he said softly as he started down the hall away from her. "I'm deeply sorry, Rachel."

"What for?" She asked. "Is it because of happened last night?"

"No I'm not sorry about that, but rather about my ghastly appearance," he said with a nervous smile, but stopped and turned back around. "I cannot apologize for not being the best when it comes to explaining myself. It has been a dreadfully long time since I had to explain my life story or intentions to another person. I am rather out of practice, it would seem."

"You did better than I could have done," she said softly.

"Do you mean that?" He asked. "Or is there another reason for your unexpected visit?"

"Do you doubt my sincerity?" She asked indignantly. "If that's the case, then perhaps coming here was a mistake and I should go." She started to walk away, but this time she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and she stopped and turned around.

"No," he whispered, but after a moment of awkward silence had passed, he lowered his hand. Much to his relief, she remained standing and did not turn to go. "Rachel, in my entire life there was only one who really, truly understood me…"

"…Lucy, right?" Rachel asked, thus interrupting him.

"Yes," he lowered his head. "I miss her."

"I do too," she said honestly. "After we spoke last night, I sat downstairs remembering things about her, things from my childhood that I admired in her. She and I were in the same class and on the first day of school, we got out and she reluctantly told me about that place."

"Narnia," he said softly.

"Narnia," she repeated. "The things I remember her saying paralleled to some of what you said last night. It just felt as though I was hearing all of this for the second time and it scared me. I guess that's why I left so quickly."

"Perhaps that is why Aslan chose you," he said. "He wanted someone who could have been familiar with it without actually having been there."

"I wish I could have, though," she confessed softly. "I was never chosen for anything. All my life I was sort of the loner or the outcast. My greatest accomplishment was probably reading the most books during a term or making the highest score on an exam. When you really stop to think about it, that really doesn't amount to much."

"I have felt that way myself," he said honestly.

"You probably know all about where Lucy was sent during the war. I had to leave home too and instead of going to a place of adventure, I was sent to stay with my aunt. She despised children, and treated me like I was a servant instead of a niece. Later, after I returned to London and spoke to Lucy, I found myself envying her, because she had something wonderful that I didn't. She had the ability to live out her childhood and not feel forced to change to suit what was happening around her. She never lost her faith, not even after Susan did."

"So in other words, what you are saying is that you believe me?" He asked, his eyes filling with tears.

"Yes, as strange as it sounds, I do," she said. "I suppose I did from the start, but when you initially told me, I got so scared. I mean; this all seems too fantastic to be real. Now whether I like it or not, I'm a part of it, or so it seems. What I've always wished for is starting to come true, and then instead of embracing it, I wanted to run away from it. I have always wanted to feel as though I was special, but anymore, I don't really know if I am. When all this is over, then all I'm supposed to do is try to carry on as though nothing has happened. But something has, damn it, something has changed me, and I don't even know what it is or why it has even happened."

"I cannot tell you the answers you seek," he said regretfully. "I do think that if we are to continue speaking, perhaps we must do so now. There still exists a great deal that I must explain to you, things that I failed to say last night because I was quite overwhelmed," he said. "My thoughts, as you can probably tell, are rather a jumble at the moment."

"I could tell," she nodded, but lowered her head shyly. "May we please go back inside, though? You look as though you're about to fall over again, and I really do need to sit down."

"Of course," he said softly as the realization hit that they were still standing out in the hallway. He offered her his arm and was surprised when she accepted it and he was able to lead her back inside.

Once they had entered the living room and he had closed the door behind them, they went over to the sofa to sit down. As soon as she was comfortable, she took a deep and staggering breath as she rubbed her hands together not really sure of what to say next.

They sat like this for about fifteen minutes in companionable silence. After the time had lapsed, Rachel found the courage to look at him. As the light filtering in from the windows revealed his face, she took a deep breath as she reached over and touched his shoulder. "You've been crying," she whispered as she noticed the familiar red streaks that lined his face.

He nodded slowly.

"Is it because of me or something I did?" She asked.

"In part, I fear that I have somehow failed what I was sent here to do," he began. "I did not want to make you afraid, Rachel, and I did not wish for you to interpret that I would come here with the intention of bringing harm to another."

"You really wouldn't, would you?" She asked.

He shook his head. "No, I wouldn't."

"Perhaps that was established when you first took Susan's case, but I have so many conflicting thoughts going through my mind. I don't even know what to call you anymore."

"When we're alone, you can call me Tumnus if you would like, it would actually make me happy to hear someone call me by my name again," he said honestly as he lowered his head. "But at the hospital, that name must not be used at all."

"Because Susan knows you and would have recognized the name?" She asked, her question emerging more as a statement of fact than an inquiry.

"Yes," he nodded. "As I said last night, she met me when she was a child. If I had come as a faun, then she would have known immediately, and that would have most likely put her in shock."

"I guess it would, we're not used to seeing fauns roaming the streets here," she said softly as she stood up and went over to him. Extending her hand, she slowly touched one of the bald spots and then the other. "Excuse my being so bold and touching you without permission, but what are these strange bald spots on your head? Are you well, Tumnus?"

"My horns," he said softly. "That is where they would have been."

"Then based on everything you said, that means you're really not a man at all, but some kind of mystical creature," she whispered as she returned to her seat. "I mean; this isn't some crazy story, it's real. When I look deeply into your eyes, I can somehow sense that you are really afraid of being here. Perhaps of being discovered as someone who is different from the others."

He nodded. "Yes, I am."

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked. "Everything that has happened here has been kind of scary."

"It shouldn't be," he said weakly. "What I was unable to explain was that in returning to Narnia, Susan will not die or leave her life here behind. She will be granted the opportunity to get along here without her family's physical presence, but she will be granted the opportunity to see them again and make peace. She will discover that the part of her past that she thinks had died did not leave her behind at all."

"But how?" She asked.

"I do not know exactly, I simply know that Aslan wants Susan to come back to Narnia and recognize that she has a home there. Then when her life in Spare Oom is over…"

"…Spare Oom?" Rachel smiled as she looked at him, a bemused expression suddenly shadowing her otherwise serious face.

"England," he smiled weakly. "When her life in England is over, then she can return to Narnia for an eternity."

"I wish I had that option," she mused.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Just forget it," she said, her voice cracking. "I should just let you finish explaining everything and not interrupt."

He took a deep breath, but looked at her. "When Lucy first came into Narnia, she was a little girl, and I found her in the wood. I took her home for tea, and told her of the fauns, the dryads, and the tree nymphs. I spoke of midnight dances in the middle of the Narnian summer as well as the music. It was a time when Narnia was filled with joy, color and life. It was a beautiful time, but in my explanation, I also had to tell her of the long and terribly cold winter that we were experiencing. It had gone on for a hundred years because the entire country was under the thumb of an evil witch. Lucy and her siblings returned some time later and helped to free the land from the witch's grasp. In the end, the great Aslan destroyed the witch, and Lucy and her siblings grew up in Narnia as kings and queens."

"So if what you're saying is true, then she was telling the truth," she whispered, the color suddenly drained from her face. "I didn't believe her, she said that she had fallen in love and was a grown up there. I was confused, I mean; it just sounded like a fantastic story."

"She said that she was in love?" He asked.

"Yes," Rachel whispered. "She said that she had fallen in love with you, and that she missed you."

Thomas' face lit up upon hearing this response, but taking a deep breath, he looked at her. "There were moments when we had spoken with one another about this topic, but she never really confessed what her true feelings had been," he said softly. "When she returned to her world, I did not know what her feelings were. I was in love, yes, but I didn't know what she felt and that was very painful." He took a deep breath. "After she disappeared from Narnia, I could only surmise that she lived here until she became a young woman and the train accident happened. It was soon after we were reunited, then she told me of her feelings and I was able to convey my own."

"So it's like you said, this isn't really about death at all?" Rachel asked.

"No, it's about life," he said softly. "You see, when Lucy was a young child, she never died, she was experiencing an adventure, but nothing more. I would not wish for Susan to die before her time and I would not wish for her to end her life here in order to go there. She can still experience Narnia without dying and that is what Aslan has sent me to remind her of. Yes, she would see Lucy again, and that would be a blessing for both of them, but she would ultimately return to this place to live out her days. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "You know, I sat downstairs thinking about everything and wondering if what I was doing was right or wrong. All I can say is that if I didn't know you like I do now, I would say that all of this sounds like a case from the hospital."

"I know," he said softly as he reached over and took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. This time, she did not move her hand out of his grasp, but instead allowed herself to hold onto his hand as well.

She raised her head and looked at him, the tears glistening beneath her eyes. "You've proven to be a good friend, Tumnus. But it still is rather shocking how understanding you have been with me."

"I have done nothing extraordinary, Rachel," he said as he released her hand.

"You must really be in love with Lucy Pevensie, to do what you have done."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you would sacrifice everything to come to this dreadful place and live a life that you clearly don't deserve," she took a deep breath. "You said last night that at home you can run and are free. I figured that you would rather be back there than here is all."

"Yes, it is true, my loyalty and love to Lucy is keeping me here, but I must also help Susan. She must find her life again, whether Narnia is a part of it or not. My greatest hope is that I can at least help her get out of the hospital so that she can start her life over. Once that task is completed, then I may return home."

"That's beautiful," Rachel whispered. "I've never had a friend who would do something like that for me. What I still don't understand is perhaps there were other alternatives to your coming here?"

"No, this was my only option," he said. "When you love someone, sacrifices, no matter how great or small, must be taken. Lucy misses her sister, and I believe that Susan misses her family as well. I haven't yet reached the point where I can tell her the truth, though. I thought that perhaps you would be able to help me find the courage to do so."

"Me and courage? I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree with that one," she whispered.

"No, you do have courage, Rachel. It takes a great deal of it to retrace your steps and speak to someone who has frightened you as I have done. I am very grateful to you for that," he said. "However, it is now time for you to let go of judging me as a cripple or one to pity and see me as simply a friend."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"You have judged me and thus have allowed yourself to only see things through logic and its black and white answers. There exist far more possibilities than just those two. There is a virtual rainbow out there, a vastness that is indescribable. When Susan tried to shoot an arrow, Bob came and told me of it. We watched the tape and I recognized something that no one else there had seen or even recognized. I discovered that in her heart, Susan was trying to connect back to what she once was. When you heard Aslan's voice, it was the same idea, but your reaction was different than hers. You decided that you did not want to believe that it was real because you were afraid of what the repercussions of such a belief could be. Is that what life in this place is really about? Is it truly about people trying to fit themselves into these little boxes so that others will determine that they are sane enough to live freely in human society?"

"That's not fair," she objected. "You're trying to satirize our society. We're not perfect, but the hospital is there to help and you're acing like the world's biggest skeptic. I mean; you are right in the thick of it, for crying out loud. You are a doctor and as such, you must be there to help."

"Yes, but the question still remains: Is Susan Pevensie living or existing trapped behind large, stone walls? What is this hospital doing, helping to create a society of clones, all the while using a forced or imposed concept of what 'normal' is? What happens next? Last night, you yourself threatened to send me to prison for saying things that fell short of what your perception or 'normal' or 'sane' is defined as."

"It was wrong, I'm sorry," she said, her voice taking on a defensive edge. "I'm just not perfect, alright?"

"Neither am I. I have been a terrible faun and have made many mistakes," he said softly, but looked at her through shining blue eyes. "I must say in your defense, however, that you fought against the system when you took it upon yourself to defend Susan. You did not know anything about her situation when you did. I remember, it was the first day she was admitted. Delores Davenport meant to hurt her, yet you defended her. I was there and I saw everything."

"That's different, though," she objected.

"Perhaps it is, and perhaps it is not. If you were to speak of what you know about me, they would lock me up in a neighboring cell to Susan and no one in that hospital would be there to help her."

"I won't do that to you, I've already promised," she whispered.

Thomas nodded. "I think because you know that Susan is spiritually dying. It's not something that you can see, but it is clear that she feels broken and has no one to care for her. As long as she exists there, then she will emanate this mental picture that society has given her. She will be a number or a coding and will never be declared as 'healed'. Don't you see? Regardless of what happens to me, if no one is there to help her remember who she is, then she will die alone with these unresolved issues to contend with." He shook his head. "If there is such a thing as suicide, then Susan Pevensie had reached that point long ago, and it will not be my hand that has pushed her down that particular path."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I mean that there are more kinds of death than just the physical," he said. "There exists mental, emotional, and spiritual death as well. They come about through situations of abuse, loss, depression, and sorrow. All of these things have left an impact on Susan in one form or another. I knew when I chose to come here, that Susan was in danger. Her sister sensed it and spoke of it as well. Lucy has been haunted by terrible dreams and visions. Later, after I started speaking with Susan about them, I noticed the parallels in both of their lives. This is what was unshakably terrifying. All the dreams that they had been having about one another were real and now, I do not know what to do next."

"So what you're saying is that the bond that exists between them is that strong and cannot be changed through external means?" She asked.

He nodded. "When Lucy spoke of her dreams, I had no idea how strong the connection was until I spoke with Susan in the garden. There, she told me that she had been having nightmares as well. It suddenly became clear to me that across time, one can commune with another," he paused and waited for her say something.

When she did not, he continued. "I'm not trying to force Susan to remove herself from the experience of life. That is really something that I haven't the power to do. What I want is to help her rediscover those other pieces of her life that she has forced herself to forget. They are the pieces that connect her to Lucy as well as to the rest of her family. If she can just remember that they truly love and care for her, then perhaps she will one day be able to come home without any sort of regret. Perhaps in the short term, this will enable her to leave the hospital and never return."

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she bit down on her lip. "I guess I initially thought that you wanted to kill her off or something."

"No, for me, that was never an option," he said shaking his head. "I think trying to explain Narnia is really not all that easy. There exists a great many facets to it. For whatever reason that may exist, children have visited it from your world and accepted it as a reality. Trying to explain it to an adult has never been done before, at least not until now. Yet it seems I am probably not doing very well with it at all."

"I think you are," she said softly. "I think part of the reason children have experienced this is because they accept things that grown ups can't. We've been programmed by logic and rational thinking for so long that it is sometimes hard for us to display 'faith' and 'trust'. I remember playing pretend when I was little, making up places or things and thinking nothing of it. When I got older, my parents started droning logic into me. Suddenly, all the things I loved as a child were gone. It was as though they had been taken away from me. Sometimes logic can be a downside to a lot of really wonderful things."

"Yet you chose to become more logical," he said.

"I had to, it's sort of became a key element to survival. It's like that day when we give up this notion that Father Christmas exists, or that he comes down a chimney on Christmas-Eve night," she shrugged her shoulders and smiled weakly.

"I never stopped believing," he said smiling. "I met him once, actually."

"Yes, but you're different. You're not afraid to talk about fantastical things or open yourself up to being criticized. Maybe that's what initially made me feel comfortable around you. It may also be the reason why Susan feels that way as well. Even Bob said that you were different from the other doctors at the hospital."

"Yes but you still intended on running away from me when I tried to tell you the truth last night," he said.

"Maybe I wasn't running away from you, but I got scared of what the truth could possibly be. I lost a great deal when I grew up. When I became about sixteen, I stopped peering into wardrobes and gave up hope that something could lie beyond them. I wanted to believe that something could have existed that spanned beyond my wildest dreams."

"What changed?" He asked.

"I became a woman and I figured that if I distanced myself from these childish notions, then I could go through life as was intended," she said as she looked at him. "What I'm trying to say is, I will help you help Susan," she swallowed, but her next words emerged and he raised his head. "There is a condition to that, though."

"What?" He waited for her to speak, and when she finally did, his mouth fell open in complete surprise.

"When all this is over and you have accomplished what you have set out to do, then I want you to take me with you."


	18. Internal Struggles

_a/n: This chapter begins to address the question of why Susan withdrew from her family and grew up much quicker than most girls would. It also draws the story back to Susan and her memories, not necessarily of Narnia, but of the time before Narnia. It is more movie based than book based, because I recall in the film how there was a small conflict between Peter and Susan, specifically during that scene on the river where she tries to drone logic into him. _

_If I haven't said this before, and in the wake of some absolutely wonderful reviews, a disclaimer is in order. This story is an amateur piece of writing, it is not intended to infringe on the copyrights held by the CS Lewis Foundation, or Disney / Walden Media. Of course everyone knows that._

_Fledge: You are just too good at predicting the issues that I am planning to address next. The how's and why's of Susan's behavior will be addressed, stay tuned. After all, sometimes one must look at the past in order to understand the present._

_Mckenna: When it comes to reading my stuff, patience is always a good virtue to have. You will see Susan returning in the second half of the chapter, and the coming chapters will have much more of her in them._

_Lanthir1: To me good grammar in stories is imperative. One cannot convey an idea very well without it. Specifically with a story as complex as this one._

_Trecebo: Yes, if only…_

_So with all that said, here's chapter 17. There are a few adult language moments here, but that's sometimes to be expected in a 'T' rated story. _

_I also chose to give the father of the Pevensie children the name Nigel. There was never really a statement made about the first name of Mr. Pevensie, so I opted to giving him a name, since his role in Susan's life would emerge later in the story, even if only through third person interaction. This is rather a transitional chapter, but in my opinion, it is a very significant one. I hope you enjoy it and as always, reviews are love._

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**Chapter 17: Internal Struggles**

When the surprise lifted from his expression, Thomas looked at her, "I don't know if I can agree to do that," he said. "It is not my choice whether or not you shall be allowed into Narnia, it is Aslan's. He is the one who must decide."

"Then would you ask him?" Rachel asked softly. "I will help you regardless, but I want to at least have a chance. If I am the chosen one that you describe, then I shouldn't be denied…" her voice trailed off and she swallowed. "…Right?"

"I don't know," he said weakly. "Why would you even want this?"

"Because Narnia has to be better than this place," she said firmly. "As if you haven't noticed, Susan's life and mine are not all that different. She's only a few years older than me, but we are a lot alike."

"How do you figure?" He asked.

"Simple, she lost hope when her family died, and I lost hope when I grew up. I have spent the time since she came to the hospital watching her deteriorate before my eyes. I witnessed many degrading things happening to her in the hands of Delores Davenport. Sometimes, I found myself lacking the courage to fight for her. The people who claimed to be her closest friends and confidants turned and ran away from her when she needed them the most. I understand that, I know what it's like to sit alone in a room day after day with no true or lasting friends. We are not all that different, the only thing that distinguishes us is that you care for Lucy and Susan, and I have yet to find anyone who really gives a shit about me."

"That's not true," he objected.

"Isn't it? You want me to help so that Susan can go to Narnia and live happily ever after, but what about me? What is going to happen to me after I help you? I will still live in this void and will still remember that everyone talked to me about Narnia, but I never was good enough to experience it. It's like someone dangling sweets before me and then when I finally reach for them, they are jerked away and completely out of reach. Sure, I may have the good feeling of having helped another find their way back, but then I must stand and watch as everyone that I have come to know simply walks away."

"You're lonely," he whispered.

"Well there's a newsflash for you," she said sarcastically.

"What can I do?" He asked.

"You can let me come with you," Rachel snapped, but then her voice softened and she changed the subject. "Do you know what's strange about this whole story with Susan?"

"What?"

"Right after she came to 'Pleasantville', I started hearing rumors that her boyfriend Charles managed to swindle her out of her entire inheritance. I heard that she was supposed to receive Professor Kirke's house in the country after he died, but she never got it. He left his entire estate to her family and now she is all that is left of them. After they all died, everything sort of fell apart in her life. You see, women in this day and age really do have very limited rights."

"How well did you know Susan?" He asked.

"Not very well, but Lucy was in my class. It stood to reason that I would see Susan now and again as I was growing up," Rachel said. "I remembered how Lucy told me this story of her adventures and how the recollection of it hit me last night after I left. I always thought that Narnia was a figment of her imagination and that she would eventually grow out of it, but she didn't. She held onto her faith and it never ceased, not even when Susan would yell at her about it."

"You admired that trait, that limitless faith, didn't you?"

"Yes," she said. "It may sound ironic, but it's the truth. I lost my faith when I became an adult just like Susan did."

"How can I help you to find it again?" He asked.

"I don't know if you can, it feels as though it is gone," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, the awkwardness of the moment somehow washing over her. "Can we please change the subject now?"

"Of course, perhaps you can tell me how you ended up working at the hospital," he offered freely, but in the back of his mind, he could not help but contemplate what she had said. This would remain in his mind long after their dialogue had come to an end.

Rachel released a relieved sigh before she began to speak. "When I came there to work it was strictly by accident. I found out about Lucy's passing while I was in nursing school. I'm ashamed to say that I had completely lost touch with her. We had both gone our separate ways, but upon making that terrible discovery, I was very sad. I felt guilty for not having written that last letter or ringing her up. After hearing about it, I tried to call her parents but no one was home. Later, I discovered why, they had all died that same day, except for Susan who was rumored to have been in America at the time. I guessed that she had been sent a telegram and returned, but I never saw her until that day when she was admitted as a code brown patient."

"How did you find out that the rest of the family had died?" He asked.

"It was several months after Lucy's passing. I was doing more extensive research at the library archives and for whatever reason, I found a newspaper clipping about the accident and in it, the names of the victims had been listed. Of course, I remembered Lucy, and started scanning through the pages to see if anyone else I knew was there. It's rather like reading the obituary pages to see if someone you know has died. At any rate, when I found Lucy's name, I saw that above her name was Helen, and below it was Peter. I read the other names and saw that Edmund and Nigel's names were also included." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Anyway, about three months after that, I was sent to work as an intern at 'Pleasantville'. I had been there for about two months when they brought in Susan. Or should I say, dragged her in? After she was admitted, I started to have second thoughts about working there. I mean; it was that same day when I saw Delores Davenport abusing Susan for the first time. Through that, I suddenly realized how unhappy I was."

"What did you do after I saw you leaving the corridor?" He asked.

"I did something that was either crazy or stupid," she admitted. "First, I contacted an old friend of my family about what I had seen. He suggested that I go and speak to the hospital administration and that through his contacts, he could perhaps help to trap this 'mad doctor'. I did as he said. I told them that if they were to set something up to monitor Susan, that they could perhaps uncover mistreatment going on right under their noses. They started arguing that the doctors are highly qualified and should be left to do their own devises. Three days after that, one of Davenport's other patients died of unknown causes. The man was said to be on the road to recovery and his passing came as a shock to everyone. Finally when they got inundated with rumors of mistreatment going on, they rang me agreeing to the proposal and asking for, or should I say, begging for the number of my friend. I gave it to them and they rang him. He agreed to secure the equipment they needed and would deliver it later that afternoon."

"You're talking about the monitoring equipment, aren't you?" He asked.

Rachel nodded. "This guy I know works at a television station and he was in with the owner of the station. When I found out that he had access to the equipment and could loan it to Pleasantville, I was so grateful to him. They also dropped the idea that if the media caught wind of these rumors, then all hell would break loose at the hospital. The two cameras would be set up a few days later. A week after it had been in place, I came to work to discover that they had opened up an investigation against Davenport and she was removed from all the cases that she had been assigned to. Everyone thought that the entire place was being monitored, but it wasn't. The only places where we could set up visual equipment was in Susan's cell and in the recreation room. The rest of the cameras were pieces of cardboard cut to look like cameras. My friend suggested that we make a bunch of dummy cameras to place throughout the hospital to keep the suspicions from being raised. The administration, of course, agreed and these cardboard fakes were placed throughout the building."

"When will the equipment be returned?" He asked.

"The television station wants it back by tonight," Rachel said. "It doesn't matter much anyway because I heard rumors circulating that they had signed a contract with a company who would finance some audio bands for the rooms. You see, in this day and age, most places cannot afford to have such an elaborate set up," she said shrugging her shoulders. "Pleasantville probably couldn't have either, but the guy I know managed to pull some strings and get them approved because I asked him to."

"So, in other words, you and your friend went out on a limb for Susan, even though you didn't have to," he said.

"She's the sister of someone I went to school with, I owed it to Lucy's memory to do something…anything to help," Rachel shrugged her shoulders.

"Amazing," he said softly. "And here I believed that these things were detrimental to the patients' privacy."

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "I figure that it's similar to what happened when you tried to explain Narnia last night. Just because it may be interpreted as something negative, does not mean that it necessarily is."

Thomas nodded. "So it seems."

She looked down at her watch at that moment as the color drained from her face. "Oh shit," she grumbled under her breath as she realized that it was close to noon. "I had no idea that I had been here this long."

"What's the matter?" He asked.

"I'm late for my shift," she said. "My boss is going to string me up when I get to work."

"Just tell them that you were working on a project for me and lost track of time," he said. "Maybe that will suffice and they won't 'string you up'. I'm still a doctor there, you know and with that comes a certain amount of power."

"Thank heavens for small favors," she mused but looked at him. "I'll see you later then, won't I?"

He nodded. "You will."

She got to her feet and rushed quickly out of the room, the door closing loudly behind her.

"I will never doubt you again, Aslan," he whispered under his breath as he stared at the spot where she had been sitting. In the back of his mind, however, he began to seriously ponder if Rachel's request could be fulfilled.

* * *

An hour after Rachel had left Thomas Jenkins flat, Susan slowly, but groggily, opened her eyes. One thing about this life, she had no recollection of time and it would have proven very easy for her to sleep the day away. Glancing towards the window, she could see that the sun's light was now filtering through the window.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced back down at her lap and yawned. She had barely slept that night, and when she did, she had strange and unsettling dreams about her childhood. She had not thought much about her life during the war or of the bombing raids while in this place, but for some unorthodox reason, now she contemplated that very aspect of her life.

Trembling, she unconsciously pulled the blankets further up to her chin and kept them bunched up around her neck. It had been a horrible time, no question, but why it was that she had suddenly remembered this aspect of her life was not yet clear. She had somehow grown accustomed to dreaming horrible things about being mauled by lions, or having rows with her sister. She never thought that she would be recalling the events prior to their visit at Professor Kirke's large museum-like house. Nor did she ever believe that her dreams would have aspects of war and lions in them. As she continued to grasp the bedding, she realized that her knuckles were as white as the walls that confined her.

As these disturbing thoughts ravaged her mind, the incompleteness of her memories somehow began to fill her with absolute dread. She closed her eyes for several moments and watched as the door abruptly opened and a man, dragging a ladder, entered the room.

She had never seen this man before, he looked to be a handworker of some kind, several years her senior, with dark brown hair. "Hello," she offered, her voice emerging fake, almost a forced imitation of Doris Day.

"Good morning," the man mumbled, but nothing further emerged from him. Instead, he turned away, his back facing her, and he folded out the large metal object. As soon as the feet of the ladder clanged against the tiled floor, he wordlessly climbed up to the camera.

Sighing sadly, she watched his actions. It seemed as though he did not seem even remotely interested in engaging her in dialogue. He probably figured her to be too far gone to deserve a kind word or even a halfway cordial greeting.

Running her hand through her cropped hair, she watched as he fumbled with the piece of equipment and within minutes, the mass of cables and metal descended the ladder in his hand. Once he had reached the floor, her gaze returned to the patch of white on the wall above the cabinet. "I guess you won't be needing this anymore," he muttered under his breath as he began to haphazardly wind the cables around his arm. Once the task was finished, he left the room once again, his feet scraping casually along the tiled floor.

Seconds later, he returned empty-handed and reclaimed the ladder. Sliding it along the floor, he exited the room and the door was shut and locked behind him.

Susan inhaled slowly. She was still a prisoner in this hospital, but at least she could make her way around the room without being monitored. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, her elbows now resting on her knees and her eyes lazily closing.

Falling back against the pillows, she rested her folded arms behind her head and laid back down, her closed eyes facing the ceiling. As her mind began to drift, she could feel herself consciously starting to think about the things that she had make a mindful attempt at forgetting. Her childhood began to flash through her mind as though watching it on a movie screen. Oddly enough, instead of remembering her teenage years, she was recollecting several days before Lucy's birth.

No one in the Pevensie family had even known that the baby that Helen Pevensie was carrying would ultimately be a girl. Of course, during those days, medical science could not determine the baby's gender, so the planning had been done as neutrally as possible. The name Lucille had been selected for a girl and Matthew for a boy.

Before Lucy's birth, Susan recalled those special moments she had shared with her mother. They would sit together on a hillside overlooking their house and playing her favorite game with the clouds. Helen had often told her as a little girl how she believed that children should strive to occupy themselves by using their imaginations. They could make up stories by doing something as simple as watching the clouds take shape and roll across the horizon. Susan remembered how her mother kept a journal of all the pictures they had painted of the clouds. Together, mother and daughter would later compose little stories and poems about them.

Smiling, Susan remembered her favorite story. It was about a large dog who would chew on a big bone and then start chasing its tail. She did not know what she liked about that story, but she enjoyed telling her mother that the dog's name was Lionel and his master was an old man with a snowy white beard and moon-shaped spectacles.

It was no secret that Helen Pevensie had always taken a special interest in her children. Being the only girl, Susan had been lavished with attention. It was an unwritten code in the Pevensie household that the two women (Helen and Susan) would always stick together. For this reason, Susan had been hoping that the new arrival would be a boy.

Of all her memories that she carried about her family, the one that Susan would not forget was the last day she and her mother had sat on the hillside. Every time she thought of it, she could feel the tears catching in her eyes. The older woman would sit with her arm around Susan's shoulders and they would silently stare into the heavens. As the memories flooded over her, the tears abruptly caught in her eyes and began to stream down her cheeks.


	19. A Patchwork of Memories

_a/n: Welcome to the latest chapter of this story. Not much to say with regard to it. All of the feedback has been wonderful, and I have been highly motivated by your thoughts and words. _

_This chapter explores the dynamics of Susan and how her youth has contributed to the person that she has become. This has been a very difficult part to write, because I've had to do some time lines to make sure that her age is relatively in accordance with the Narnian Chronicles. This chapter is a series of flashbacks centering on the traumatic days in Susan's life. These events contribute to the whole 'grown up' mentality that Susan had created for herself at the time she chose to dismiss Narnia._

_I am deeply proud of this chapter because it is something that no else (that I know of) has really touched upon in CS Lewis fan fiction. It not only conveys her own private struggles, but it shows the environment that she has grown up in and how it has contributed to her changes. I think that alone can convey a great deal about her experiences and why it is she is the person that she is in the present._

_I really appreciate the reviews that I have been getting, and I would really like to ask if some of you who are following this story could give me a review on this chapter in particular, it would be appreciated. I really like to think that I am writing a well rounded account here, not just about Rachel, Tumnus/Thomas, Lucy, and Bob, but about all of these characters (No, I haven't forgotten about Aslan, Edmund and Peter, but Aslan cannot really be any more well rounded than he is, and the Pevensie boys are somewhat minor characters in this story). As I said, although this does touch on Susan's 'pre Narnia' life, I think it is an important springboard to what she is presently experiencing, especially given that up to now her 'Narnia Days' are the classical 'Swiss Cheese memories' (I think I've been watching too much Quantum Leap with that particular reference)._

_Enjoy, and as always, reviews are love._

_Thanks to Fledge for pointing out the historical error. I was trying so hard to keep the Narnia timeline intact, that the history slipped by me. That bit has been corrected.

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**Chapter 18: A Patchwork of Memories **

**Flashback: London September, 1935**

Helen Pevensie would often sit on the side of a hill overlooking a meadow. When she started these small trips to the park, she had gone alone. Her sons and husband seemed either uninterested in this ritual or they had matters of a more pressing nature to attend to. Either way, she welcomed these moments of solitude whenever she would go. Soon after that, Susan joined her and they would sit together in companionable silence and stare into the heavens.

As her eldest daughter grew, Helen began to notice that Susan somehow felt drawn to this place as well. The first time Susan had asked her if she could come, she had smiled and nodded. As a result, the youngster's face had broken into a large, toothy grin. Immediately dropping her favorite doll on the floor, she enthusiastically joined her mother at the door. This always meant a long walk to the park, but Susan seemed not to mind that at all. There were always plenty of things to distract the child.

From the first moment, Susan had grown to truly love those trips with her mother. Helen discovered that on the hillside, her little girl's eyes would droop and she would fall asleep, the soft grass acting as a cushion beneath her small body. Helen began to see that instead of forcing her daughter to have her naptimes at home, she would suggest that they go together to the hillside and there Susan would sleep, the sun blanketing her with warmth.

Over time, this had become their special place. Whenever Helen would suggest them going there, Susan would run into her room, grab her notebook, several colored pencils, and join her mother outside. Their walk lasted for about ten minutes until they would reach the park and Helen would watch as her daughter broke into a run to get to the spot she loved the most.

Helen was, on this particular day, almost full-term in her pregnancy with Lucy. As she eventually trudged her way up the hill, she could see that Susan had already selected her spot and plopped herself down on the ground. As she laid back with her arms cushioning her head, her green eyed gaze would almost immediately stare into the vastness of the sky. Her captivation had been so great that when her mother had approached and would ease herself onto the ground, Susan failed to notice.

As Helen managed to get herself comfortable on the ground, she unconsciously covered her abdomen with her flat palm. It was not so much that she was out to protect her child from anything, but having carried three other children to term, she knew the connection that she always have with her children. It was something that only a mother could truly comprehend.

Glancing skyward, she tried to shift her attention as her unborn child kicked the inner walls of her lower abdomen. Every time the baby would move, Helen would grunt or moan, but that would soon pass and her expression would shift and show a small smile.

Susan abruptly sat up, her pigtails now bobbing about as she began to rub her face. She was still a toddler, with a good year to go before she would start school. At this moment, however, she did not care, she stared at the sky, her doe-like eyes taking in the various shapes of white on light blue.

"That's my favorite color. Did you know that, Mum?" she asked as she stared up at the patch of blue that was visible beyond the clouds.

"That's generally a boy's color," Helen remarked, but contrary to these critical words, she looked down at her eldest daughter and smiled.

For her part, Susan crossed her tiny arms over her chest, curled her lower lip in a pout as she regarded her mother. "It's my favorite color in the whole, wide, world, Mum."

Helen released a small, light, giggle. "As you wish, Your Majesty." She always addressed her children in this manner whenever they began to behave in a sarcastic or rude manner. This always seemed to break the ice, and she could instinctively tell that her young daughter was now thinking about these words.

"I am not a Queen, Mum, I'm a princess," Susan insisted. "At least that is the story that you told me about the clouds. That one up there looks like a castle, doesn't it?"

"Yes, so it does, and over there," she pointed to the opposite side of the horizon. "That one looks like your tiara." As the baby began to kick once again, Helen moaned slightly, but reached over and took one of Susan's wrists. As she led her small, sticky fingers over to her abdomen, she spoke. "Here, you said wanted to feel it. Right now, the baby's really getting a bit of exercise."

Susan nodded as she ran her hand across her mother's abdomen and when she felt the kick, she gasped. "Does it hurt?" She asked innocently.

"Only when they do that, but it shows me that they are there. If they were to suddenly stop and never move, then I'd get a little bit worried," Helen explained with a gentle smile.

"What do you think it's going to be, Mum?" Susan asked as she withdrew her hand.

"Well, if the baby's a girl, she will grow up and become a princess," Helen said affectionately. "If it's a boy, then he will probably grow up to become Prime Minister."

"He won't be a Prince, or a King?" Susan asked with a tiny snort.

Helen laughed. "No one really knows for certain, do they?"

"Well, if it's a girl, she will have to marry a prince to become a princess," Susan said rationally. "Perhaps one of the King's sons."

"No," Helen said with an adamant shake of her head. "she would be a princess in her own right. Just as you are." Instead of arguing that statement with a five-year-old girl's wisdom, Susan smiled slightly as she listened to her mother's confident words.

After some moments of silence, she looked over at her mother. "Do you think I'm a princess? Really and truly?"

"Of course, you just said so yourself," Helen said smiling. "A gentle princess, that is what you will be called one day."

Susan smiled and nodded as she laid back down on the grass and rested her head on top of her arms. Lying on her back, she watched as the clouds drifted lazily across the sky. The child smiled dreamily as tiredness overwhelmed her and she closed her eyes to take a nap.

The little girl, at that moment had absolutely no idea that this would be the last day she and her mother would ever sit together on the hilltop.

**Flashback End**

Somewhere in the recesses of Susan's spirit, she could feel the tears as they started to stream down over her face. Remembering her mother was not easy, but the uncanny undertones of the words she had said seemed to stick in her mind. This seemed to be happening even after the memory faded and she was wiping the last of the moisture away. 'Gentle Princess' seemed to careen about in her mind as the words of her mother struck a nerve of familiarity even after all these years had passed.

As she had grown up, Susan could recall ceasing with the clouds and stories of princesses and castles. She graduated to playing other, more complex games with her siblings. She would never have admitted it to her brothers, but there was a spark of happiness in these moments of racing about the yard with them or searching for the best hiding place in all the house. Of course, like many children, they had started with games of tag and in turn, that would ultimately be replaced with cricket and other sporting endeavors. Even the youngest of the four took delight in learning the ins and outs of these games. This had came as a great surprise to Susan as well as the two boys, simply because Lucy was too small to hold the bat, much less play.

Helen Pevensie had made Susan responsible for Lucy. That is, whenever they would be outside playing, Susan had to watch out for her little sister and keep her out of trouble. At first, Susan resented this and she found herself growing displeased with her little sister, the spoiled princess. After awhile, however, she found herself growing closer to the inquisitive little girl and began to take her responsibilities seriously. She had become, over the years almost like a second mother to the youngest sibling, and she knew that in her heart of hearts, she truly loved her little sister.

At the same time, she had become a stranger to the days of happy childhood. Today, her memories of it were somehow filled with pain and struggle. Her sorrow was defined when the world had come crashing down on top of her, thus dissolving these childhood fancies of which she painstakingly created.

1939 had come, the world had been shocked to the core with the talk of war. This topic was suddenly on the lips of every person in London, and the children could not deny the harsh realities that would encompass their world. It was during this time that Susan learned how grown ups were capable of lies, deceit, and other barbaric acts. Words to paper no longer seemed to matter when it came to the gaining of power on a world stage.

The Pevensie family began to focus their attention on the news, as opposed to the music of their day. Suddenly, Susan began to draw pictures in her mind of leaders saying and doing whatever they wanted to attain the obedience and adoration of the masses.

It seemed odd that amidst all of these contradictions, Susan began to imagine that she was a grown up herself. She remembered how this longing seemed to swallow her whole. As a child she was under the control of others, but as an adult, she believed that she could have been in control of her own destiny.

"But I don't," she mumbled softly to herself as she looked around the room where she was kept prisoner. "I don't have any control over what happens to me. It doesn't matter if I am a child or an adult, I have lost control of everything."

As her words filled the void of the otherwise empty room, she realized that it no longer mattered if she was a child or an adult. She had absolutely no control the dreadful and horrible things that had transpired in her life.

The clouds, games, and fancies of her youth were now gone, never to return. She had become a child of war, lost in this new rhythm and trapped in this terrible existence. This would be affirmed tenfold once the bombing raids had started in London. By the time Susan was twelve-years-old, her world of innocence and joy had been destroyed by obligation and accountability.

The one event that would mark that change, was the day her family received word that her father would have to leave London in order to serve in the military.

"No, I don't want to remember this," Susan mumbled under her breath as she felt the tears that were streaming helplessly down her cheeks. She fought with all her might to stop the memories from playing out in her mind, but they continued their relentless march.

Perhaps this all started to unfold now that she was no longer being monitored. It was hard to say for certain, but instead of remaining on her back, Susan rolled herself into a fetal position and buried her face against the pillow, the soft sobs melting away to agonized wails of grief.

**Flashback: London January, 1940**

Susan slipped quietly into the house after retrieving Lucy from school. The youngest of the siblings had retreated to her room and thus left Susan alone. She quietly came into the kitchen, only to find her mother seated at the table with her elbows resting on the hard wooden surface. In front of her, a crumpled handkerchief rested and a telegram sat unopened. Susan could see the dark blue color of the stamp across the back of it. This was an indication that it had yet to be opened.

Helen Pevensie knew what was inside without even touching the thin envelope, but Susan did not and this confused her. Instead of speaking, the young girl sat down quietly across from her mother and stared down at the smeared ink that covered the flap of the envelope. She wondered if the ink had been smeared because her mother had been crying, or because it had been raining a good part of the day. At any rate, the delicate paper was covered with the seal of the Royal Air Force. Susan recognized it immediately as it was in one of her textbooks from school.

"Mum, what is the matter?" She asked, her voice soft.

Helen raised her head and looked into the eyes of her eldest daughter. "Did you pick up Lucy from school?" She asked, trying to keep her voice level, but failing miserably.

"Yes Ma'am," Susan said and almost anticipating her mother's next inquiry, she continued speaking. "Edmund is at Johnny's house playing. His mum invited him to stay the afternoon for tea."

Helen nodded as she looked up at her daughter. "Yes, well, it is nearly four, time I put on some tea." Slowly, she got up from the table, her hands immediately slipping into the pockets of her housedress. The letter remained untouched on the table.

"Mum, what is the matter?" Susan asked.

"You will not let up, will you?" Helen responded to that question with one of her own. Quickly, she went over to the cabinet and pulled down canister with some Earl Gray tea inside. She opened the lid and smelled the contents, the fragrance of it somehow bringing a slight smile to her otherwise worried face.

Susan watched as her mother stood for several moments, her hands holding the tea canister, and her head bowed. "Mum?"

"What is it Susan?" Helen snapped.

Without waiting for an answer, Susan opened the envelope carefully and peered down at the uneven type-print that adorned the telegram. As she did, Helen turned around and looked at her, the eyes of the woman suddenly filling with hostility.

"That was addressed to your father, Susan, not to you. You have no business opening it," Helen said hotly.

"I know, but you're not telling me anything," Susan's voice had reached a fevered pitch.

Instead of remain angry, Helen sighed and taking a deep breath, she went over to the table and took the telegram out of Susan's hands. In a fluid movement, she reached for her reading glasses, put them on, and adjusted them. "It is just as I thought," she mumbled once she had finished reading, the tears once more catching in her eyes.

"What is it, Mum?" Susan asked softly.

"Susan, you are going to have to be a good girl through all of this," she whispered, her voice cracking as the words emerged.

Susan cringed upon hearing them. It happened this way every time her mother spoke in this manner. It always implied that something dreadful was about to happen in their lives. Helen had often used these words since the outbreak of war. Yet there was a softness in their cadence that compelled Susan to look into the eyes of her mother and speak. "I'll do my best, Mum," she said, her voice cracking. As she swallowed a few times, she could suddenly feel a lump the size of a football lodging itself in her throat. After several moments of silence, she found her voice once again and looked at her mother. "What has happened?"

"Your father has received a telegram from the Royal Air Force," Helen said as she motioned towards the envelope that was on the table. "I didn't want to open it, but I could almost tell by the seal who had sent it and what it meant. Ever since the raids started, I have feared that this moment would eventually come, and now it has."

"What are you saying?" Susan asked weakly.

"It simply looks as though your father has been called to service. He will have to leave us for a time in order to serve England in the great war," Helen said bravely, but the tears persisted and made their way down over her face.

"He can't go," Susan said, her voice cracking. "If he does, then he'll never come home again."

"We don't know that," Helen said firmly. "But it is very clear that with the arrival of this telegram, he must, in fact, go. All that we can do is be brave and accept it. You see, Susan, none of us can ignore a command laid down by the King. We must honor our country and do whatever we must to serve it. One day, you will understand what I am talking about."

"I don't want to understand, I want Papy to stay," Susan whimpered, her voice etched in a childish pout. Helen took a deep breath and came around the table. From behind, she wrapped her eldest daughter in her arms.

"I know you do, Susan, I do as well, but now you must be a big girl when we tell Edmund and Lucy the news. Peter will no doubt understand and will assist me in the matter, but the two little ones will need you to be strong as well."

"I don't want to be strong, Mum, I want Papy to stay," Susan whispered a second time from within her mother's embrace.

"He cannot," Helen remained firm as her next words emerged, the desperation etched in them. As they filled the kitchen, Susan could feel herself cringing upon hearing them. "It is now time for you to get your head out of the clouds and grow up, Susan Pevensie. I need you to help me take care of the others."

"Yes, Mum," she whispered obediently as she bit down hard on her lip and lowered her head. As she did this, she could suddenly taste the saltiness of her blood. At that precise moment and out of love for her family, Susan Pevensie vowed to do exactly as her mother had requested of her.

**Flashback End**

The memory faded and as she opened her eyes, she could almost see the image of her mother's stern face carved into the wall adjacent to her bed. Susan was an adult now; she had given up the fancies of youth that day in 1940 when her father had received that telegram. Today, there was no turning back.


	20. Two Different Directions

_Hello and welcome to Chapter 19. Before I proceed with this chapter, I think it would be important for me to address some of the thoughts the readers have given to me about the preceding chapter. _

_First of all, it is my wish to be historically accurate, and having studied Russian and Political Science at a university level, I am always hopeful that my facts are accurate and not like shooting darts. I did make a wrong year summation and that is in 1939 the anti-aggression pact was signed between the USSR and Germany, the attack against Leningrad happened in 41. I don't think anyone really knew of this pact prior to the attack, but again my knowledge is about 10 years old, so I'm not known to be 100 perfect when it comes to specific dates that this information emerged in the news. Needless to say, I did change the reference so that it gave a better flow to the story. Thanks fledge for catching that bit._

_As for Aslan being called a minor character, what I inferred in that remark is that Aslan is, in this story not one of the characters who needs a great deal of character development. We all have an idea about Aslan's character, and of all the characters in the Narnian Chronicles, his is the most developed because he is present in every one of them. So, there exists no need for me to 'develop' an already well defined character._

_This chapter is another 'flesh Susan out' chapter. I decided to make it into two chapters because it was so much information and psychology that I feared that it would be too much to present at one time. It is the last chapter before Susan really begins her interacting with the other characters and her memories of Narnia start to culminate. To me it is massively important to understand Susan's past in order to understand the contradictions in her present day character. I think that there is a profound reason behind why Susan was the way she was during the Narnia experience, and then afterwards._

_I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and as always reviews are love.

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**Chapter 19: Two Different Directions**

Susan closed her eyes once again, the tears streaming down over the contours of her face. In the days to follow this last group of memories, Nigel Pevensie would have packed his things and made ready to leave his family behind. She could not forget the last things he said as he made his way towards the door.

"When I return," he had affirmed, his unhappy gaze meeting each of the children and then Helen. "It will be a day of great joy. But until that day comes, mind your mother." His eyes were on Edmund as he finished speaking. He reached down and swung the pack over his shoulder before opening the door. "Take care, I love you all," were his last words.

Susan remembered having sat stoically in the parlor and watching as her father left the house. Part of her wanted to run after him and beg him to stay, while the other part felt the words of her mother returning to her consciousness over and over again. That part, of course, had won out, and she remained seated and watched as the door swung closed behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Susan watched as Edmund and Lucy collapsed into Helen's arms and began to weep. It stood to reason; the younger siblings could not understand war. Not even she or Peter could fully comprehend the brevity of what was happening in the world around them. Instead of crying, she simply exchanged helpless glances with her older brother before slowly getting up and leaving the room. To this day, Susan never spoke of her father's departure to anyone.

"I never forgot, Mum," she whispered under her breath, as the stillness of the moment swallowed her up. She no longer felt brave or courageous, instead she felt as timid as a mouse. Of course, she had gone out of her way to keep her word to her mother, but at the same time, she had managed to close herself off to the chance of ever fully living out her childhood.

**Flashback: London June, 1940**

The week that Nigel Pevensie left London, Susan's life changed for the worse. Gone were the feelings of lighthearted dialogue with her family, and in its place, a sense of brokenness and hostility reigned. Each member had fallen into a slump of sorts. Helen did what she could to keep things together, but was failing miserably. Her own grief about Nigel's absence seemed to overwhelm her and she began to depend on Susan more and more.

Lucy had, over time, started to whine whenever she was displeased with something and the nickname 'little princess' suddenly carried a very negative connotation. For his part, Peter had become bossy and demanding, all the while trying to dictate for each one of them what was right and wrong. Finally, Edmund had become a brat of sorts and was constantly getting into trouble.

Along with her own struggles, Susan began to notice that her younger brother would sneak into the kitchen and try to catch snippets of the news broadcasts without anyone else knowing of it. Of course, everyone did know, and it destroyed Helen, who sat for days on end trying to figure out how Nigel was doing. Edmund's incessant glorifying of the war had somehow started to grate on all of their nerves.

Of course the 'round the clock war reports' seemed to embody the family and their lives anyway. All Susan could do to get away from it was to withdraw into herself instead of sit in the middle of the whole sorted mess. She wished from the bottom of her heart that her mother could have spared at least a moment to sit down and talk to her, but she did not.

Once upon a time, the two of them had spoken about everything, but now, the only time Helen spoke to her was when something positively horrible was about to happen. For that very reason, Susan began to positively dread any one-on-one conversations with her mother.

As she leaned back against the pillows on her bed, and took a deep breath, Susan began to think about her happier days. Specifically, she tried to center her thoughts on the day when Nigel had brought the radio into their home. Rolling over onto her side, she felt her lips turning up in a slight smile as she recalled those events. The radio was like a birthday and Christmas present rolled into one. It would lead into a number of very festive Saturday evenings in their household. These were the times where it truly felt as though they were a family and not just individuals with different agendas living under the same roof.

The music had been wonderful; the big band radio shows would broadcast and fill their parlor with life. Groups like the Ambassadors or Ben Selvin's Orchestra had the ability of leaving them all in high spirits. Susan knew many of the songs by heart and remembered how the sounds of trumpets and clarinets would fill her ears and leave her tingling with excitement.

On those especially happy nights, Nigel would stand up; offer his hand to Helen and the two would begin to dance. The children would watch, entranced, as their parents would glide through the parlor as though in a trance. Susan would sit and watch until Peter eventually stood up and came over to her. "Come on," he would say. "Let's show the grown-ups how to dance."

Susan would agree, and smiling she would stand up and begin to dance with her older brother. As their horrid imitations of ballroom style dances would leave them bumping into their parents, both she and Peter would dissolve in fits of laughter. These joyful sounds would eventually drown out the music, but no one seemed to mind. Soon their glee would literally catch on and the rest of the family would laugh as well, the sounds drifting to the heavens.

"One day you will need these dances," Nigel had said. Susan believed his every word and would try to memorize the dance steps by watching her parents closely.

That was a far cry better than the radio that played today, she thought with a gloomy sigh.

Of course, today, she and Peter could barely stand one another. He had suddenly become the man of the house, and their laughter was replaced with incessant rows. They were both forced to grow up whether they liked it or not. Although Peter had taken all of this in stride, Susan found herself unable to accustom herself to living out this new role.

This was constantly reaffirmed for her each and every time her mother would say 'Susan, be a good girl'. In the back of her mind, she always felt as though she was somehow being told, 'when I cannot be with you, then you must take my place'. It was with that knowing that Susan learned at that early age the rewards and drawbacks of growing up too soon.

The music had stopped playing, games of pretend were forfeited and Susan had become that 'big girl' her mother had wished for. Today, instead of being Lucy's older sister, Susan had become like a surrogate mother to the youngest girl. Unbeknownst to Susan herself, she had begun to mirror her mother's behavior almost completely.

Susan opened her eyes to see her arms now draped over the side of the bed, her fingertips dangling down towards the floor. She had been writing in her diary before her memories had overwhelmed her, and now that book lay open, the pen casually tossed on the folds of paper, the ink leaving blotches of blackness on the empty pages. She picked it up and began to write the rest of the sentence she had started. Finishing, she replaced the screw-on cap to the pen and tossed both casually onto the floor.

At that moment, she suddenly heard the sounds light tapping on the other side of her door and then the sounds of her mother's familiar voice echoing against it.

"Susan?"

"Yes, Mum?" She called as she quickly scrambled to get off the bed. Her hands, she wiped down over the folds of her dress, as she reached the door and pressed down on the lever. As she pulled it open, the first thing she could see was her mother standing in the threshold, her eyes regarding Susan gravely. In her hands, she held an off-white colored envelope and from the look of it, it was another telegram. "Is it Papy?" She asked automatically, her gaze resting on the object her mother held.

"No, your father is alright, Susan, at least that is what the telegram last Thursday said. This is something else, something that involves you and your brothers and sister. I wanted to speak to you and Peter about it first, but he's not here right now. He said that he was going to meet his friends from school and play cricket." Helen took a deep breath as she regarded her daughter. "Susan, I want you to understand that I have very little say in the matter regarding what is inside this envelope."

Susan watched as her mother came into the room and closed the door behind her. With slow and meticulous steps, she reached the bed and sat down.

"Just tell me," Susan said as she reached for a chair and dragged it across the floor and over to the bed. Instead of seating herself next to Helen on the bed, she sat down across from her. For whatever reason, she felt more comfortable in this stance. She simply was not in the mood to be sitting beside her mother when she learned what was inside that cursed envelope.

"Perhaps the best way for me to tell you is for you to read this yourself," Helen handed the telegram to her daughter and watched as Susan removed it from the envelope. Seconds slowly ticked by as she watched her daughter carefully unfold the yellow piece of paper before beginning to read the stenciled print that covered the page.

When she finished, she looked at her mother. "This says we have to leave London?"

"Yes."

"When?" Susan asked.

"First thing tomorrow," Helen said as Susan raised her head and studied her mother's face for some sort of sign that she was joking. When her gaze did not falter and no amusing words emerged, Susan could suddenly feel her fists clenching, the paper now crumpling from the pressure.

"Is that why you have been crying?" Susan asked bluntly.

Helen nodded. "I don't want you to go, but you have to. London isn't safe anymore and the government believes that the children would be safe from the bombs if you were to go to the country. There, you can run and play without being afraid of anything."

"Play? How simply ironic," Susan muttered under her breath as she looked at her mother skeptically her eyebrows arching. These words had come from the very same woman who had told her only five months ago to 'grow up'.

"You know what I mean Susan," Helen said, her voice etched in desperation.

"No I don't, not anymore," Susan said, but she took a deep breath as her next words emerged, cold and somewhat distant. "I will see to it that the others are packed by tonight." From the depths of her being, however, she felt as though her life had collapsed before her very eyes. Instead of speaking otherwise, she looked at her mother bravely all the while trying to conceal the tears that were threatening to stream down her face. "Where must we go?" She asked.

"You will be staying at the home of Digory Kirke, he's a very long standing friend of our family. Because of the state of things here, you have yet to meet him, but I think you will like him once you do. He spent his life working at the university, but he is in retirement now. He has a great many artifacts and interesting stories to tell. His housekeeper, Mrs. MacCready, is scheduled to meet the four of you when you arrive at Coombe Halt tomorrow late in the afternoon. I have spent this afternoon arranging your passage. Everything is taken care of, and he will be expecting you there tomorrow night."

"You didn't tell us sooner," Susan whispered. "Why?"

"I feared that it would be harder for you to know this before the right time," Helen said. "Perhaps I hoped that this news was somehow a mistake."

"A mistake," Susan muttered. "And now I'm supposed to go away and play?"

"Susan, it is your duty to stay alive so that England will have future generations," Helen argued. "Why else do you believe that the government has decreed this?"

"I don't know," she whispered more to herself than to her mother. "I truly don't know."

Nothing further was said, instead she watched as her mother got to her feet and slowly left the room. Once the door had closed, Susan got up and shoved the chair away from the bed. She was tempted to throw something, but instead, she stood numbly in the center of her room and stared out the window. The cool summer breeze was now wafting into the room, but nothing else mattered. Eventually, she threw herself across the bed and allowed herself to cry.

**Flashback End**

As she opened her eyes once again, Susan suddenly realized that from the moment she had arrived at the Professor's mansion with her siblings, her memories of the place were somehow blocked. She remembered the day they had left London as well as the trip on the train, but after their arrival at Coombe Halt, her memories were a haze. It was as though they had been wiped completely out of her consciousness only to haunt her as dreams.

All she knew was that every time she even thought of her childhood, her pain became immense. There was something in her heart that had shattered as she went from one stage to another. She had spent most of her life being told by Helen Pevensie to grow up and now that she was, she longed for the days of childhood once again.

Susan had once idolized her mother and believed that she could gain favor with Helen through listening and heeding her words. At the very same instant, she recalled how someone else whom she loved dearly had told her that she was too mature to be accepted. Who that was, and the exact words, which were spoken she could not recall, but she resented it beyond belief.

She endured all of those things through mature silence. Yet in her heart of hearts, Susan yearned to belong somewhere instead of feeling trapped between two sets of expectations. She could feel the yearning to return to her childhood eating away at her, but at the same time, she could only behold her present day reflection. There was no question, she felt torn apart, lost, and forgotten. She knew that she was an adult now, but she felt as though she had yet to realize who she was and what her life truly meant.

Closing her eyes, she bit down on her lip. She knew that something had happened to her, something that had changed everything. Today, she knew that there existed an experience that had cemented the bond between herself and her siblings, but for the life of her, she could not recall what it was.

Patches of memories filled her mind, but nothing made any sort of sense. She recalled something about statues in a castle foyer, lions with warm and healing breath, and renaissance dresses flowing about her ankles, but that could not explain anything concrete. It did not explain the profound bond of family she experienced during the time spent in Professor Kirke's mysterious home.

She began to shake her head as though in denial. "I don't want to remember anymore," she whispered under her breath as the tears continued to stream down her face. "It hurts too much."

Of course, fate had other plans in mind for her. Once Susan started to remember her past, there was no turning back.

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Several feet away from where she lay, Aslan stood unseen in the corner of the room and watched over her. The golden eyes of the lion stared down at her trembling form and he took a deep breath. Susan, Daughter of Eve, you shall know the truth very soon, he thought as he closed his eyes. When he opened them again several seconds later, his gaze was still on her even though he knew that she could not see him. Simply put, she was not yet ready to.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the soft breath of the lion cascading across Susan's face and wafting her hair about. As he watched her reaching up to brush her hair out of her face, he backed another step away.

She has yet to recall her time in Narnia. Everything she had done up to this moment had been done on an unconscious level. She would eventually discover the reason for it, but he knew that Tumnus would be the one to guide her into this revelation and not him.

After a moment, Susan raised her head and looked over in the corner to the spot where he had been standing. She would soon know that I do love her, he thought sadly. She will realize that I have not forgotten her. Narnia has not forgotten her either.

As he left her, the gentle breeze ceased to circulate about the room, but without another thought or action, the mighty lion left.


	21. Similar Insights

_OK, here's the deal. I know a lot of folks are on vacation and cannot review until they get back. I understand, I will be leaving in about three weeks to go on vacation myself (yes again). I will be in Rome for two weeks at that time, so of course there won't be any time for me to write or post updates. I am hoping to get this story finished in the coming weeks, but there is still a lot of stuff left to tie in and wrap up here. So, I'm looking at roughly 10 chapters at the least, but I'd be willing to bet that it will be more than that. I want this to be good with a believable ending, so I'm not rushing myself. This is a huge writing project for me, and if I never post another story here, I want this one to be good. _

_Save the pandas: hope you enjoyed your holiday, welcome back._

_Just a little bit dramatic: I love cookies, thanks._

_Trecebo & Fledge: You both have been so awesome with your reviews and I can't thank you enough for your thoughts, insights and suggestions. I'm really grateful to you. I have always objected to CSL's treatment of Susan, and since I have a fascination with psychology, then I'm glad that I could incorporate that into a redemption story. Like some of you, I like to see not only how the given situation affects others, but affects the person directly. I just think that there is much more to Susan that what was written about her._

_Reviews are love, so please indulge me, and I'll share my cookies with you. _

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**Chapter 20: Similar Insights**

Within minutes, Susan opened her eyes and sighed as she sat up in bed and started to walk brusquely around the room. "I have to forget," she whispered desperately with each step she took. "I will heal if I completely forget."

"No you won't. You'll never heal until you remember everything," a voice suddenly emerged and she turned around to see that Rachel Friedman was now standing in the doorway. "I know this is hard for you to hear, but the more you remember, the better. Don't you see? You can heal more from remembering the events of your life than from trying to block them out. The problem is, to remember everything is very painful."

Susan looked at her. "You don't know what I've been through."

"No one other than you could possibly know what you have experienced, Susan. We can assume that we understand, but we don't, that's why you're here. Maybe what you should do is try to find out everything that happened, and then once you can handle it, you can leave this place once and for all." As she spoke, she reached out took Susan's hand in hers and squeezed it gently. "What do you remember?"

"I remember getting on the train and leaving to visit this Professor Kirke in the country. I was twelve or so, I don't remember all that well. Usually, people remember how old they were when something happens, but I don't. I know that it was 1940 and during the war. I remember how the bombing raids in London forced our parents to send us to the country for safe keeping."

"I know," Rachel said nodding. "I remember that too. I was sent to my aunt in Cornwall. War tends to make children into adults really quickly doesn't it? We lose the joy of counting the stars in the night sky or eating sweets until they get indigestion. It's strange how we can't really remember how old we were, but we do remember being scared and unsure of what would happen next."

Susan lowered her head so that Rachel would not see the tears that were streaming down her face. "My mum kept telling me to 'be a good girl'. Sometimes I felt like a child and other times I felt like a mother to my little sister…"

"…The one you sometimes call 'Valiant'," Rachel whispered.

"No, her name is…was Lucy," Susan whispered. "She could stay a child and indulge herself in the fancies of youth. But I felt…lost and forgotten. I had to somehow grow up during that time and look out for the others. I had to see the world through a grown-up's eyes, but I was child, damn it, I was just a child…"

"I know," Rachel said. "You were denied the chance to be that child because you were forced to take care of everyone else, right?"

"Yes," Susan nodded. "I would have to take on the world as through I was a grown-up and a guard my younger brother and sister as a mother hen watches over its young."

"It's really hard to be forced in that situation," Rachel said sympathetically. "I was an only child, I didn't have to watch out for a younger brother or sister, it was hard enough watching out for myself, but your responsibilities were three times harder than mine."

"But you said it yourself, that's what war does, it takes a child and makes them into an adult whether they like it or not," she looked at Rachel. "It's funny, I haven't thought of my family in a very long time. If you were to have asked me a month ago about them, I wouldn't have known what to say. All I could recall were these small fragments of experiences going through my mind, but they all hurt. My family is dead, Rachel, they died when I was in America."

"I heard," Rachel said softly. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry," Susan whispered.

"Of course, I know how you feel, I've lost members of my family, too."

"Have you lost all of your family at once?" Susan whispered.

"No," Rachel lowered her head. "I haven't."

"Then you don't understand," Susan said. "You couldn't possibly."

"Perhaps you're right, but it doesn't mean that I am incapable of at least emphasizing with you," Rachel said as she looked at Susan. "I know that it is difficult for you to move on after having suffered such a vast and unthinkable loss. Susan, there are people here who do care and we want to see you happy again. If only you knew to what extent."

Without thinking, the young intern dug in her pocket with the intention of retrieving her handkerchief. Since she was still dressed as she had been at the monastery, she unintentionally pulled the cigarette package from the pocket of her skirt. As she sat with the crushed box in her hand, Susan raised her head and stared with wide eyes down at the object.

As she recognized the form of a lion on the package, Susan began to tremble uncontrollably. She backed away from Rachel, closed her eyes, and began to scream. Wedging herself up against the far corner on her bed, she stared out at them through wide eyes.

Rachel looked down at the object for a split second as the door suddenly swung open and Bob rushed into the room. He must have heard the screaming from out in the hallway, she concluded, but suddenly her blood ran cold when the two orderlies came into the room behind him.

"We'll take care of this one," one of them said as he started to walk towards Susan He held in his hand what appeared to be a straitjacket, but what got her attention was the uncaring sneer that covered his lips.

This was too much, Rachel thought as she stuffed the item back in her pocket, stood up, and positioned herself between Susan and the two men.

"I won't let you two lay a single, solitary finger on her," Rachel said evenly as she looked into the eyes of the two men.

"She needs to be sedated," one of the men said. "Dr. Jenkins is not yet here to speak on her behalf."

"I don't care," Rachel said. "You want to get to her, you'll have to get through me first. Dr. Jenkins may not yet here, but I am almost certain that he would approve of my taking action against you. You have no right to come in here and give this woman even more drugs than she's already consumed. She's not bringing harm to anyone, not even herself. She's grieving for goodness sakes. If you even try to suppress her memories, then she will never get well," Rachel said and the two orderlies began to laugh.

"You sound like you know more than you should, you meek little mouse," the second of the two men growled as he came closer to them. The man's fists were clenched and he looked as though he half expected her to back down, but what happened next surprised even Bob. Rachel took another step forward, her body coming even closer to them, her arms crossing over her chest indignantly.

The man did the same, and by this time, she could smell the nicotine and alcohol on both of them. They seemed to reek of it, and this made her cringe, but instead of backing down, she remained where she was, her eyes bearing into theirs.

"I'm afraid she's right, boys," Bob spoke up as he glanced over to see that Rachel was still standing, her fists clenched and her expression that of indescribable anger. He approached the group and looked at the two men. "I think you should go sit with Susan, Rachel. When Dr. Jenkins is not here, it would seem that she is starting to trust you and perhaps you would be better as her support than in trying to hold off these twin battering rams."

Rachel's eyes widened in surprise. "Bob," she began.

"Don't worry, just go to her," he said unfazed.

As she recovered from her initial surprise, she nodded before inching her way over to Susan who was still sitting with her back plastered up against the wall and watching their every move. As she reached the bed, she sat down next to the patient and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. As she did, she could feel the other woman's trembling beginning to subside.

The two orderlies looked at one other and then started to approach them once again. One of the men still held the restraints, and it looked as though he was wanting, as opposed to needing, to use them. "We should get her into a treatment room," he said matter-of-factly, his stance indicative that he had ignored Bob's words.

"Susan doesn't need treatment, Martin, she needs to remember her past," Bob said as he regarded the two men. "This hospital is supposed to help the patients, not keep them in a drug induced stupor."

"You take your tests to become a doc yet, buddy?" One of them asked.

"No, I haven't, but I can tell you both that if you even try to mess with Susan Pevensie, then you'll have to contend with me, Rachel, and Dr. Jenkins. Delores Davenport is no longer here for you to run to. She is not going to protect or give either of you the right to harm a patient here. Now, I personally don't think that you and…uh…Tweedle Dum over there are really a match for those kinds of odds." He looked at Susan, his next question causing both women's eyes to widen in surprise. "Do you want to go on another morphine trip, Ms. Pevensie?" He asked directly.

"No, I don't," Susan managed, her voice firm. "And I do not require either of the assistance offered by these two gentlemen."

Now she really sounds like a true queen, Rachel thought, all we have to do is help her remember what she once was. She patted the cigarette package that she carried in her pocket with conviction. At this moment, she knew beyond any doubt that she would not be throwing it away.

At that moment, the two orderlies exchanged troubled looks and backed slowly towards the door. Once they had inched their way outside, Bob smiled as he looked at the two women. They were still leaning up against the wall, their faces shadowed with surprise. As his gaze swept from one of them to the other, he began to laugh heartedly.

"I don't think this is very amusing, Bob," Rachel said hotly as his chuckles subsided.

"I'm sorry, but if you could just see your faces, you'd laugh too. You both look like mirrored images."

"Perhaps," Rachel said and looked at Susan. "It's possible, isn't it?"

"Maybe," Susan said sadly and looked up at Bob. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure," he said. "Just do me a favor, Rachel, don't tell 'you know who' about what I said in here. It was probably not the most positive thing to do to call them battering rams and then to call Brad 'Tweedle Dum' like that."

"Perhaps not, but it was funny and quite befitting for those two buffoons," she said. "Now, I think it's nearly time for lunch, and Susan will probably want to eat something. Why don't you take her to the recreation room? I will go to the cafeteria and get a tray."

Bob nodded. "It'd be my pleasure."

Susan nodded. "Will you come back, Rachel?" She asked.

"I'll try, but Dr. Jenkins should be here at about three, and he's going to want to talk to you as well," Rachel said.

Susan nodded. "I know."

As Rachel left, Susan took a deep breath. The events of the morning were still whirling uncontrollably around in her mind. Her talk in the garden with Thomas Jenkins returned to her consciousness, and she found herself smiling at the prospect of seeing and speaking with the kindly doctor again.

Now that the monitoring equipment was gone, she could speak freely without having someone come charging into her room wishing to sedate her every time she began to do or say something that they considered to be 'abnormal'. This small bit of freedom relaxed her somewhat.

She took a deep breath and looked at the man who now offered his arm to her. She reached out and accepted it and allowed him to help her to her feet. "Why did you help me?"

"It was the right thing to do," he said. "Rachel actually inspired me to. It's not always easy to charge into battle and know full well that one is outnumbered. But does it stop one from doing so?"

"No, not if it's something that one truly believes in," she said.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Come on."

Susan nodded and they left the room. As they made their way down the hall, she could still not get over what had happened. Rachel and Bob had defended her as though they were her friends. But she pondered if that was really true. Are they friends? She asked herself. Yet, the biggest question that wrecked havoc on her consciousness was how it was even possible that a cigarette package could make her scream like that.

* * *

About half an hour later, she was still sitting in the recreation room and finishing her lunch. As she poked the fork in the rice pudding dessert, she opted to skip it and placed the fork back on the tray. 

Looking around the room, she could see that Bob was sitting in the corner of the room and his eyes were half closed. He seemed to be as lost in thought as she was.

It had been such a long time since she had actually thought about her family, much less grieved for them. At the same time, she could not get her younger sister out of her mind. Ever since that fateful day when she had met Thomas Jenkins, Susan would periodically think about Lucy. She never really contemplated her brothers, but she always seemed to think about her little sister. Was it even possible for Lucy's spirit to be watching over or causing her to have these strange recollections?

She remembered throughout her childhood, wanting to grow up. As she reached her late teens, she began to behave in a manner contrary to that of her siblings. Sure, externally she had pretended to be utterly fascinated with makeup and dance cards, but the truth was, she was living out an existence that her peers had shoved on her. Susan never really learned to let go of the expectations of others, and this realization was starting to creep into her consciousness. Why was it that every time she turned around, there was someone who was trying to force her to be something other than what she was?

What no one knew or even realized was the extreme emptiness that separated her from her siblings. The older she got, the more she had drifted apart from all of them. She did this, not because she was necessarily happy, but because she needed to feel as though there was something unique about her. She had abandoned her childish notions for her mother, and was condemned for it by her elder brother. What was left residing in the heart and mind of the young girl between the stage of adolescence and adulthood, was a mountain of expectations that would ultimately weigh her down.

Susan stared down at the rice pudding, her eyes closing as she realized what it looked like. It was the same consistency of the face masks she and her friends would sometimes use.

Without consciously thinking of what she was doing, she slowly dipped her fingers into the gooey substance and ran it between her thumb and forefinger.

At that moment, Bob raised his head to see her take two fingers, scoop into the dessert, and smear it down across one side of her face.

He got to his feet and went over to where she was sitting. "Susan, what is it?"

At that moment, she opened her eyes as the realization washed over her as to what she had done. "N-nothing," she managed to speak, her hand was still smearing the dessert across her face. She brought her hand away and looked down at it. "I guess I really am crazy."

"No, you're not," Bob said smiling as he grabbed a serviette off the tray and began to wipe it gently over her cheek. "I don't know how good rice pudding is for the complexion, it probably has a higher success rating as a face cleanser as opposed to a dessert." He smiled at her, his eyes shining brightly. "Don't fret about it."

Susan smiled slightly as he finished wiping it away and she shrugged her shoulders. "Every time I start to believe that I could leave this place, then something else happens."

"I know," he said. "But you're not alone anymore."

"Yes, I am," Susan said. "I have no friends left, all I have are memories and they're so damn painful. I sometimes wish I could cry my eyes out, either that or throw my hands in the air and just scream."

"You know what?" He asked.

"What?"

"I don't think you're really as crazy as you think you are," he said.

"Maybe I am a little, I scream whenever I see a lion," she mused.

"I do too, especially those who are over two meters high, with a huge mane and a mouthful of sharp teeth," Bob said and smiled. "I'm afraid of things too, and lions are often used as negative symbols in books and other manuscripts. Some have said that lions are a symbol of power and in the Bible it is referenced that the lions ate early Christian people as a punishment of sorts. In the Old Testament, the story of Daniel being thrown in the den of lions is something that small children have identified as evil time and again in Sunday school. Some, therefore have used lions to represent a kind of evil. Now grant it, I don't know how true that is, but if you are seeing lions in your dreams, then it could be something frightening has happened to you. However, while some have used the lion symbolize vanity, extravagance and egoism, others have argued that the lion represents confidence, warmth, protection, and creativity."

"Are you saying that my dreams about lions could symbolize something?" She asked.

"Dreams are symbols in and of themselves," he said. "I don't really know how true it is, but there are those who study dreams and sleeping patterns. Sometimes what you dream are perceptions of events in your past or future. Sometimes God gives you messages through your dreams."

She looked at him. "You really don't think I'm crazy?"

"No, I don't," he said with an adamant shake of his head. "But there is something else, before you leave here, I want you to teach me how to use a bow and arrow."

"I don't know how to use a bow and arrow," she said.

"Perhaps that's a part of what you need to remember, because you do," he said smiling as the door opened and Thomas Jenkins entered and stopped when he heard their words. "Let me take this back to the cafeteria for you," he offered. "Unless you're not finished with it."

Susan laughed softly but nodded and watched as he dropped the serviette on the tray and picked it up. As soon as he left, she turned around to see Thomas standing in the doorway.

"I see you're making some new friends," he said.

"I don't know if I would call them that," she said as she watched him slowly come into the room and sit down beside her.

"I think I would," he said. "When you leave this place, you can stay in touch with them. I'm sure they will both be very happy to know they have done some good here."

"If I ever leave," she said.

"What makes you so sure you won't?" He asked.

"I don't know, maybe too much optimism is unhealthy," she responded.

"Or maybe it is precisely what you need," he said with a slight nod.

Susan looked at him, but no words emerged. He seemed so confident, but she simply did not know. "Dr. Jenkins, something strange is happening to me," she eventually admitted, thus breaking their silence.

"What?"

"I've started having nightmares again, but they're not so much as nightmares as they are recollections," she whispered. "I can't explain it, but they are reminding me of something that happened when I was a little girl."

* * *

_a/n: It is important for me to note that Bob's words about the symbols of lions come from a website, which defines the spiritual symbolism of different animals and concepts. I did some background work on that to give his dialogue with Susan a bit more depth. Some may contest my character Bob, as a monk who speaks on a mystical level, but many monks, particularly in this part of the world (Europe) do have a more mystical and liberal view of these concepts. In order to determine whether or not this is realistic for the time period presented, I'd have to do a bit more research and I don't really have the time to find out if it is completely workable, so please just humor me on that aspect._  



	22. Hidden Realities

_a/n: Before I continue with the story, I want to say that I really do love the idea of psychology and dream interpretation that Fledge suggested I use. The problem with going too deeply into psychology might turn off some readers, and I don't feel myself compelled to go too deep into that realm. Although there is no denying that it might be good. Perhaps I might kick that around for future chapters._

_There is not much to say in response to the reviews, except that I'm really glad that the story is going in a positive direction and that you folks are getting something out of it. The reason that I made mention of the mysticism is that I know from experience that given global values and ideals, there exist differences from within the church in both North America and Europe. This was something I wanted to take into consideration when posting the last chapter. My experiences on the whole are in Europe, so the characterizations of monks are from a European perspective._

_I will hopefully have one or two more chapters up before leaving in two weeks. I am shooting for that, at the very least. The bottom line is, I don't want to rush it. Too many writers get close to the end and they rush the ending to finish the project, and I don't want to do that._

_Reviews are love.

* * *

_

**Chapter 21: Hidden Realities**

Thomas took a deep breath, his words somehow caught in his throat, but instead of asking her about Narnia, he simply looked at her. "What is it?" He asked.

"When I was a little girl, I'd sometimes go to the hillside with my mother, and all morning long I was remembering these times when I would sit and look at the clouds. Anyway, this dream that I had was similar to those times but something else happened in it, something that changed everything."

"What was it?" He asked.

"The times on the hillside with my mum suddenly stopped. It was right after my sister was born. Before that time, my mother would take me to the hillside and we'd sit together and watch the clouds. I never found out why she stopped going, but it broke my heart," she said softly. "Everything had changed and I could not understand why."

"We're you jealous?" He asked.

"I don't know, maybe. Please don't get me wrong, I loved my sister, I was closer to her than to anyone else in my family, but it hurt so much. My mother suddenly had another 'little princess' to take care of, and I was shoved to the side and ignored. I wasn't important enough to spend time with, and I resented it. Oh God, I hated myself for it, but I did resent it, I guess I still do. I never thought about it much until this morning. I woke up from another nightmare, and I started to remember Lucy. I recalled how she used to be, and what made me care so much for her."

Upon hearing Lucy's name emerging from Susan, Thomas' heart literally skipped a beat, but he smiled reassuringly at her. "What happened in your dream, Susan?"

"I was sitting on the hillside with my mother and she suddenly vanished. I called out to her, but she was gone, and I was left alone and sitting there. I would stare out at the vastness of the sky…"

**Susan's Dream**

As she sat staring at the sky, something caused her to turn her head and look to the spot where her mother usually sat. When she realized that Helen was gone, she started to look around. "Mum, where are you?" She called out, her voice drifting to the heavens, but nothing changed. The sky above was bluer than anything she had ever seen, the clouds were puffy and white like cotton balls dancing across the horizon.

She ceased looking for her mother and stared at the heavens, her expression filled with awe as she stared entranced up at it. Losing herself in their shapes, her perception suddenly shifted and she regarded them through uncaring and apathetic eyes. Gone were the emotions and connections that she affixed to them. Instead, a sadness dwelled in the recesses of her heart and loomed over her like a dark shadow.

Right now, at this precise instant, all she could do was to stare at these images above her head in the hopes that they would convey something positive in her life of darkness and sadness. She did not believe for even a moment that they could convey something that would awaken her emotions, but instead, she simply stared at them with astute indifference.

The images shifted, one taking the shape of a large castle, while the other took the form of a tiara. She could still see these images, but had ceased to understand what they specifically meant. At that moment, they appeared to be a large blob and a coiled snake waiting to strike.

Swallowing, she continued to watch their forms. She did not seem to notice immediately that as they had shifted visually, nor did she recognize the alterations of color. Gone was the puffy whiteness of the clouds, and in their place, the a gray mass congealing together to form an even larger form.

She stood up with the intention of leaving the meadow, but something compelled her to remain where she was. The image was now coming closer to her and the landscape around her had faded into the gray accumulation.

As it inched its way closer to her, she started to back away from it. As she did, the skirt of her dress tripped her up and she felt the ground reaching up to cradle her body. The pain cursed through her as she began to back away from the hardening mass. Stumbling for a moment, she found herself backing further and further against the ground, her arms coming up and cradling her face.

"What is happening to me?" She stammered to the stillness, as she uncovered her face and could see with horrified eyes as the figure shifted once again and had taken on the form of a very large beast.

As it came even closer, she began to recognize that the beast that was coming closer had taken on another form, and that was of a large lion, the beast she was most terrified of.

By this time, the colors had shifted once more from gray to gold and her eyes widened. She began to back ever further away from him, her entire body trembling against the earth. As the fear consumed her she watched as the lion reached her and stopped. He now stood only a meter from her and when the great beast's jaws opened, she listened as he spoke, his voice firm.

"You have seen me before, Susan, Daughter of Eve." As she heard these words emerging, she collapsed against the earth and everything suddenly spun away…

**Susan's Dream End**

As she looked into the eyes of Thomas Jenkins, what she saw was shock. "This thing, this lion, he spoke my name."

"Are you sure it wasn't a dream?" He asked.

"Dr. Jenkins, I may be considered far gone here, but I do know that lions cannot talk," she said with unsuppressed frustration.

"It wasn't that, Susan, but you were remembering something through it," he said calmly.

"No I'm not, if I had spoken to a lion, then don't you think that I would have remembered that moment?" She said huffily.

Thomas shook his head. How much of Narnia had she suppressed? He asked himself. It would seem as though she had done this with a good deal of her memories. He took a deep breath. "Susan, have you ever thought that perhaps something in your dreams could be reflective on your present day reality?"

"No," she whispered. "Why do you ask me that? Are you trying to convince me that I am crazy?"

"Believe me, I'm not trying to do any such thing," he said. "I would never say anything that would convey to you that you are. In fact the first day we met, I told you that I was going to help you find your way home. Do you remember that?"

"Yes," she whispered. "But what do dreams about lions have to do with anything?"

"A dream, no matter how strange, does connect you to something. You have been having dreams of lions, and lions are animals that represent power, but they also represent protection and comfort. Your dreams infer that you have lost that part of yourself and that part is seeking to find a sense of comfort and protection. You have been hurt by many here at the hospital, but you are also crying out through them for the things that once were. The child inside is weeping." He paused and looked over at her. "Susan, has there ever been a day that you wished that you could go back to your childhood?"

"No," she responded once again.

"Not even for an instant?" He asked.

She shook her head. "I grew up during the war, Dr. Jenkins. I was told that I had to leave the days of childish fancy behind. So, I had very little choice in the matter."

"But if you could, I mean; if there was something that you could remember and embrace, would you?" He asked.

"I don't know," she shook her head. "It's hard to say whether or not I would want to."

Thomas closed his eyes. Aslan please give me the right words to say, he pleaded softly.

Don't push her to remember, echoed in his mind and he took a deep breath. "You are remembering your childhood, though."

"Yes, but I wish I could forget about it," she said as she got to her feet and went over to the sofa and sat down, her legs now curled beneath her weight.

"Sometimes you cannot simply forget it. If you are destined to remember something, then it will be remembered and you may have very little say in the matter. It could happen through images, dreams, words, concepts, ideals. You could name just about anything, and these memories will come back to you. Your dreams seem to be filled with longing to remember the events of the past," Thomas said as he followed her lead, got to his feet and slowly came over and sat down beside her. "Susan, I want to help you remember so that you can find the healing you need."

Susan looked at him. "How can you help me remember?"

"I have an idea, and if you are willing, then we can meet in your room later today. I will bring a series of pictures with me, and that should help trigger some of your memories. I must say that it will be very difficult emotionally, but it may very well help to ease the heartache you carry."

"If it does then I'll try," she said softly.

"Then once Bob or Rachel return, then I will go and take care of that," he said.

"Can we do this in the garden?" She asked.

"Of course, anything you wish," he said with a slow nod. "For what it is worth, I truly admire your courage, Susan."

"I'm not courageous," she whispered. "I'm afraid of what I might remember."

"Perhaps you have grown to underestimate yourself," he said softly as the door opened and Bob returned and he got to his feet. "I'll leave you in Bob's care, and I'll come for you when I have finished getting the pictures ready. Everything is going to be alright, Susan, I promise you that once you remember, it will not all be sad, but it will bring you some joy as well."

Susan nodded and watched as he left the recreation room. As soon as he was gone, she looked at Bob. "I'm going to try to remember."

"That's good," he said.

"Is it normal to be scared?" She asked.

"Of course, taking steps of this kind is always frightening, but once you do it, then you find a sense of courage inside that is overwhelming. Shall I tell you my secret?" He asked.

"Your secret?" She asked.

"Yes, it's a secret that I didn't trust myself to tell anyone here about, I mean about who I am," he said as he patted the satchel that he carried. "Perhaps it would best if I showed you instead of telling you."

"If you want," she said.

"Alright, but I don't want you to be afraid, some kids who have seen me in this outfit have called me a monster," he said. "And Rachel called me the boogey man."

Susan smiled and watched as Bob pulled a black mass of fabric from the satchel and began to pull it over his head. He expertly shoved his arms through the sleeves and once he wore it, he reached for the belt and put it around his waist. As he finished he grabbed another piece of fabric and pulled that over his head and leaving the hood down over his back, he looked at her, his eyes filled with nervousness.

Susan watched as he sat back down. "You're a monk?"

Bob nodded. "This is the first time I have ever worn the habit here at work. My abbot wanted me to eventually wear it here, but I could not understand why. You and Rachel inspired me to bring it today and to let people know that what I am is not supposed to be a secret. I'm not just some kid going to medical school and wanting to have this job here, but it's to help people, and be there for them. Whether as Brother Robert or as Bob the intern." He reached over and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Susan, part of what I'm trying to do here is inspire you to find the internal strength that will enable you to move towards your path."

"Why am I so important to you?" She asked.

"You're a child of God, therefore very important," he smiled. "When you go and speak to Dr. Jenkins, no matter what happens, if you end up screaming your head off, you'll be safe with him. He won't let anyone hurt you, and he will help you find whatever it is you have lost. Just as you and Rachel both helped me to find the courage to be what you see before you." He reached over and took her hands in his and squeezed them reassuringly.

"I believe you," she said softly.

"Then let's show them all that code brown is nothing more than a silly color," he said.

Susan smiled and nodded as she looked at him. "Was it hard?"

"To become a monk?" He asked and she nodded. "The realization that I wanted to serve God was easy, the question of how was difficult. Sometimes, the hardest lessons to be learned are to stand up and grab hold of one's identity and never let it go. Finding the courage to take control of one's life is never easy, because you always face the repercussions of how others will react. That bit was not easy at all, I lost mates because of it, I lost contact with my father because of it. But do you know what?"

"What?"

"If the people who you love cannot accept you for what you have become, then perhaps you must ask yourself if they ever really did. Sometimes people spend their entire lives trying to please others instead of finding happiness with themselves. The more you try to live up to someone else's expectations, the greater your risks of failure. Not to mention, giving up on yourself is a very powerful sacrifice."

"It's hard," she said.

"I know, but Susan, it's never too late," he said with an adamant nod.

"For me it is, my mother's dead," she said weakly.

Bob nodded and stood up. "Shall we go?"

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"I thought maybe you'd like to have some time to freshen up before you meet with Dr. Jenkins," he said.

She nodded and stood up. "Let's go." She hesitantly looked at him. "Did you want to take that off? You said it was a secret."

"No, if you're going to remember your past, then I'm going to let the others see me for who I am," he smiled. "Now are you convinced that you did inspire me?"

Susan nodded and allowed herself to smile. "I'm convinced."

Together, they walked out into the hallway and returned to Susan's room. As soon as the young woman had gone into the room, he waved slightly as he closed the door. She returned the gesture and alone, the young man made his way back down the hallway, his head held high contrary to the stares and whispers that followed him.


	23. Lucy's Heartache

_a/n: This little author's note is going to be little. It's very late, I've just finished polishing up this part and am exhausted. I beg your forgiveness for not writing individual responses here. I deeply do appreciate your comments and I'm glad that the story has hit a number of you on issues in your real life. If my work does not sometimes contain life lessons and ideals, then I see very little point to writing. This just happens to be something that I feel strongly about. _

_Here's hoping this makes sense, it's late, as I said._

_As always, I love the feedback that you nice folks have given me on the story, and I appreciate the continued support with this story. So, without further ado, the next chapter, and I bid you all a good night._

_Reviews are love.

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**Chapter 22: Lucy's Heartache**

As Bob rounded a corner, he could see that Thomas was making his way slowly towards his office. The limping appeared to be getting worse instead of better and the young monk found himself beginning to worry about the doctor. He walked towards him and when he reached him, he rested his hand on Thomas' shoulder.

"Are you alright, Dr. Jenkins?" He asked, his voice startling Thomas and slowly he turned around.

"I'm fine, Bob, thank you," he said as he took in the habit Bob was wearing. "I'm surprised to see you wearing that here. You told me the first night that we spoke how you were unsure if you wanted to have it on while at work."

"I know what I said, but I sort of got inspired," he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "Look, I can't help but notice that your limping is getting worse. Have you at least seen a doctor about it?"

"A doctor cannot help me, Bob," he said softly as he opened the door to his office the two men entered. As they came in, Bob used his free hand to close the door, all the while his other arm was helping to keep Thomas on his feet.

"What do you mean a doctor can't help you? You can get leg braces, or crutches or have an operation. There must be something that can help you," Bob said.

"No I cannot do any of those things," he said softly and took a deep breath. "When I said that I was going to eventually leave Pleasantville, I implied that I had secured another job and would be transferred, but the truth is; I'm dying. This body is beginning to give out and I'm running out of time."

"What do you mean, you're running out of time?" Bob asked. "How can you be so certain?"

"I just know. It's sort of an internal sensation that I have. I know that my time is running out, I'm feeling ill and soon will be unable to continue. Susan is starting to remember herself, but there exists much more that she must remember before she is able to leave. Then it isn't just her remembering the past, she must also believe in it."

"You cannot explain it to me, can you?" Bob asked.

Thomas shook his head. "No, I wish I could, but I cannot."

"I understand, Thomas," he said, his voice soft but deliberate as he used the doctor's given name. "Just tell me what I can do to help you. I want to be your friend, not just your colleague."

"I don't know what you can do that has not already been done," he said. "Just please don't think me insane for saying that Susan Pevensie is the reason I am here. Rachel knew Lucy, Susan's sister, but I know her as well."

"You know Lucy Pevensie?" He asked and Thomas nodded. "How? She's been dead since '49."

"I met her when she was a child. We were friends and later I met Susan, Edmund, and Peter. They were children at the time, but I never forgot them," Thomas explained. "Right now, I'm in a position where I can help Susan, but she must remember who she is, or my coming here will have been in vain."

"You mentioned a name when we talked about the bow and arrow incident, an Oreius or something like that," Bob said.

"Oreius was the one who helped her to become a better archer. He was a confidant and teacher to her, but most importantly, he was also her friend," Thomas said. "She's forgotten him, she's forgotten me as well. Once she is able to talk about everything, then she will be able to leave this place, of that I am certain."

"She wants to remember," Bob said softly. "She's going to try, even though she knows that it will be hard. I personally don't think that she can even imagine living confined in this place for the rest of her life."

"No, she cannot, she must be free. You see, she has denied herself that freedom for so long that she needs to experience what truest sense of freedom actually is," he said softly as Bob got to his feet.

"You're right, so I hope your idea will actually work. The sooner you get started, the sooner you can help Susan." He slowly walked to the door. "I'll see you later, and if you need my help, just ask."

"I will," Thomas said softly and watched as Bob left the office. Once he was alone, he went slowly over to the desk and managed to seat himself behind it. With a trembling hand, he reached into the drawer and pulled out several large pieces of paper.

Staring down at it for several minutes, he reached for a pencil and began to draw small sketches across one of the pages. Instead of drawing the general psychological puzzles that he had learned to draw during his studies, he drew several pencil sketches. Fifteen minutes later, he had seven or eight drawings stacked across his desk. Among them a lamppost, a lion, a castle, a pair of beavers, a tiara, and a bow and arrow. His eyes closed as he dropped the pencil and stared for some minutes down at his work.

If this does not help Susan remember, then nothing will, he thought sadly. As a small breeze wafted through room, he grabbed for the pages and began to look through them. As he reached the fourth picture, he gasped.

Meshed between two of the pages was a similar sketch, this one not drawn by him, but yet it was his Narnian likeness. He removed the page from the stack and reached for the drawer on one side of the desk.

"You must take it with you, Tumnus," a voice emerged. "It is the one picture that will help Susan to remember."

"Aslan?" He whispered and glanced towards the wardrobe that was on one side of the room. The door shifted, but no further movement resulted. He shook his head. "I must be dreaming," he whispered softly to himself. If I could only go to Susan and tell her my name and say that I am here to reunite her and Lucy…

Lucy, he thought, his mind suddenly drifting as he cast the pictures across the desk.

**Flashback to Narnia**

In the wake of Aslan's return to Lantern Waste, Lucy tried in her own way to go about business as usual. She had yet to see the great lion and had started to wonder if he would appear to her.

The youngest Pevensie was never one who liked having others fussing over her. In fact, she had already tried to convey to her brothers that if they wanted to be in her company, that they must stop acting like mother hens, and start acting like brothers.

Of course, this stance had taken them by surprise and they opted, instead of remaining with her, to return home and leave her and Tumnus to work things out. Peter was quite angry that Lucy was still dwelling on Susan's fate anyway, and Lucy did not like that her brother had tried to dictate to her how to handle it.

At the very least, she still had her pride intact, even if Tumnus could see straight through it and knew what it was about. He paid her daily visits generally late in afternoon just in time for tea. For the time being, they had decided to cease their nightly visits because he feared that they had instigated her nightmares.

Tumnus had come to her during the preceding days and had seen her house in a state of disarray, so she spent the last days cleaning it. On this bright and cheerful day, Lucy had finally managed to finish the task.

She took a deep breath and tossed the towel on the table and came out into the living room. At least the place was clean, she thought as someone knocked lightly on the door and she went over to it. As she reached it, she had the feeling that Tumnus had arrived several minutes early for tea. Not thinking it was anything out of the ordinary, she tied her dark brown hair back and grabbed a sash to tie it back.

Once she stood before the door, she could feel the hem of her housedress as it lightly brushed against her ankles. She managed to run her hands down over her clothing as she reached over and pressed down the lever to open the door. As she did, her eyes widened as she regarded the one who had paid her a visit.

"Aslan," she gasped when she saw the large lion standing before it, his mane blowing gently in the breeze. If a lion was capable of smiling, then he was, his golden eyes regarding her with love.

"Hello dear one, may I enter?" He asked in greeting and wordlessly, she nodded as she backed away from the open door. "I hear that you have been sad," the lion said gently as he breezed his way into the house somehow shrinking as he walked so that he could fit into the small living room. "What is it that has made you so unhappy, Lucy?" He asked directly.

"I-I'm alright," she whispered, as she stared at him in wonder. How was it even possible for a full grown lion to enter her small cottage without knocking something over? Much to her surprise, he managed with ease. He even gently closed the door with his back paw once inside.

"No, you are sad," he said matter-of-factly as he shook his head, his bushy mane flowing about like waves against a seashore. "The question is why, Dear One?"

'Dear One', he always called her. This had started when she was just a little girl, but the name had remained with her even after she had grown up. She bit down on her lip and sat on a nearby chair and waited for him to come over to her. As he sat down comfortably on the floor, his body coiled around her and she felt herself literally engulfed in his warmth. He looked at her, his golden eyes filled with understanding. "Tell me what troubles you, Lucy," he tried again and this time, his words seemed to break through her resolve.

"Oh Aslan, I don't know," she shook her head. "I should be happy here in Narnia, with Tumnus, my brothers and you, but I'm not. I realized some days ago that I cannot keep my feelings hidden from you," she whispered as she felt the tears streaming from beneath her eyes. As if by impulse she buried her face into his mane and allowed herself to cry in earnest, the tears dampening the silky hair surrounding the lion's kind face.

As she finished crying, she raised her head and he nodded. "Tell me in your own words, Dear One."

"I miss Susan, Aslan. I know that she wasn't always nice to me, and that she acted cross whenever I mentioned Narnia as we got older, but I can't get her out of my mind," Lucy confessed, her voice a choked sob.

"Tumnus told me that you have been very sad, he's been dreadfully worried about you. He said that he has spent many a night in your company and that you have wept in your sleep," the lion said softly.

"He told you that?" Lucy whispered.

"He did not have to, but I know that he loves you very much and he worries about you. We all do, even I," Aslan said with a slow nod. "Lucy, the road ahead for your sister will be a long and hard one, and if she chooses to return to Narnia, then you must know that she will be welcomed home. Your brother, the High King Peter, cannot keep her out of Narnia and he cannot dictate your feelings for you. You have done well, in conveying that lesson to him. At the same time, you must know Dear One, that she has not chosen Narnia, in fact she has opted to forget about it entirely." As he spoke, he words were soft, but they were firm. "She must live with the consequences of her choices."

"I know, but still, there must be a reason," she whispered.

"Oh there is, part of that reason is me," he said.

"You?" Lucy looked at him confused.

"I told her many, many years ago that she would not return to Narnia because she had become an adult," he explained. "She had grown up, but I did not see the child that still dwelled in her. You see, Lucy, as a little girl, you have had the opportunity to learn and grow as child should. Sadly Susan has not and this has dictated her fate. As a child, she was told to grow and become a woman before she had lived out her childhood. She took these words I said to heart, and they were words that had transcended beyond Narnia. You see, when a child grows into an adult, that is good, as it is the natural progression of things, but Susan's growth was tainted by two individuals."

"Me?" She whispered.

"No, Dear One," he said gently. "By your mother, and by me."

"You?" Lucy whispered.

"I told her that she would never return to Narnia," he said. "In part this was true, but in part, she needed Narnia far more than you, Peter, or Edmund did."

"Then why did she turn away?"

"Because she was hurt," he said. "Do you remember that adventure where you admitted to me that you were jealous of Susan's beauty?"

"Yes, you said that you were disappointed in me," she sniffed.

"This is what your sister experienced with you, she was angry and hurt that you could experience Narnia one more time, but that she had been denied that opportunity," he explained softly. "You both have dealt with envy of the other, and while you overcame yours, she did not, and this ended up swallowing her whole."

"I miss her, Aslan, I feel lonely without her," she said. "It's not fair. I want to go and bring her back."

He leaned over and rested his head against her cheek. "You cannot," he said simply.

"Why not?" She asked, her voice filled with desperation.

"Because in that place, you are no longer alive," he said firmly. "But do not lose heart, because there may still be a way. It is a path, which you, your brothers, and your family cannot undertake. It is a journey that someone else must willingly travel. It is one that will lead that individual away from Narnia for many years."

"You?" She asked weakly.

"No, I cannot make this journey for the same reason you and your brothers cannot," he said softly. "You see, if I appear to her, she will be frightened, just the same as if you were to go. The other sad reality is that regardless of who chooses to help Susan come home, it may not work or she may not wish for it at all. I want you to understand that it's not me that has cast out your sister, it is she who has chosen this fate."

"Please Aslan, we must do something to bring her home," Lucy pleaded. "I would do anything you ask."

"I know you would, Dear One," the lion said softly as he felt her tears falling against his face. "You are my valiant Lucy, and I know what lies in your heart. I remember it all too well."

As he spoke, someone else tapped on the door and she raised her head.

"It is Tumnus, it's teatime and he is rather observant to that. Go and let him in," he said gently. "And fear not, I will not leave you just yet."

Lucy nodded as she wiped her face with the sleeve of her dress and hastened to open the door. Standing just outside was her dearest friend in all of Narnia. She reached out to him her hand taking hold of his as she pulled him closer. "Tumnus…" she whispered his name as she wound her free arm around him. Without saying anything further, she buried her face against the woolen scarf he wore around his neck.

"Dearest Lucy, whatever is the matter?" Tumnus asked as he greeted her with an embrace. He intended to say something else, but the words did not emerge as he glanced up and could see that Aslan sitting on the floor in Lucy's house. "Aslan," he whispered when he found his voice. "Did you tell her?"

Aslan nodded. "Not everything yet, but it is good that you have come. You know that it was the tears of this dear one that brought me back to Narnia," he said with understanding etched in his voice.

Tumnus nodded. "You have always cared for everyone, even me, a faun not worthy."

"But you are, Tumnus, you must forgive yourself, as I have already forgiven you," Aslan said. "I can also see that you and Lucy love each other very much. It was also your worry for her that caught my attention."

The faun nodded as he helped Lucy to sit down and once she was seated, he sat down next to her and looked at Aslan. "What more can we do?" As he spoke, he began to gently stroke the top of Lucy's head. "You do know that I would make all the necessary sacrifices to ensure her happiness."

"I know, for that is what we have spoken of," Aslan said and looked at Lucy. "My dear one, we have found the one who will journey back to the land of Spare Oom to help Susan Pevensie."

**Flashback end**

She had cried so hard. Thomas thought, her tears not for herself but rather, for another. Such unselfishness he had not seen in anyone, but he did see it in Lucy, his Lucy. He lowered his head.

Seconds later, he could hear someone knocking on his door and he raised his head and called out for the person to enter.

The door swung open and he looked up to see that Rachel had come into the office. "Dr. Jenkins, it's Susan, she's having some sort of bad daydream or something. I don't understand it, but maybe you should come now. I think it may have something to do with what you told me last night."

He got to his feet and started towards the door, his steps slow and deliberate. Like Bob, Rachel noticed that something was not quite right with him and she reached out and took his elbow to help steady him. "Thank you, Rachel."

"Thank me later, right now I think that Susan needs you and we should get to her room before those two goons, Martin and Brad, get there," she said.

He nodded as they left the office and stepped out into the hallway. After several paces, he stopped and took a deep breath. "The pictures, I need the pictures."

"I'll get them, they're the pages stacked on your desk, right?" She asked.

"Yes, they're very important, Rachel," he said as he pressed the key into her hands. "Please bring all of them to Susan's room immediately. I'll meet you there."


	24. Rachel's Revelation

_a/n: It is really nice to see new readers coming into this story and commenting on it. Thank you Last Haven for your comments. It's nice to have you reading this. As I said in previous author notes, the issue of love and romance are different and will be presented differently here. That is, one can carry a very deep and profound love for another, and have it not be cheesy or silly. The problem that I seem to encounter in reading a number of romance (shipping) stories is how the writers only address certain issues and not the overall essence of the love that is expressed. Since I believe that love is not limited and there are many aspects to it, I can try and find that balance with the characters I present. _

_As I have stated time and again, there's nothing wrong with either being or not being a shipper. No one should apologize to me for not being a shipper as they come into the story, it's not expected. After all, Narnia stories did not talk about two characters having a romantic relationship, so realistically, even my shipping Lucy / Tumnus may not be in with what people might interpret from the original works of CS Lewis. I do believe, however, that there is nothing wrong with the emotion of love, and have tried to convey that throughout this story. Also given that these characters are grown ups and not children should indicate that adult issues will fall into the pages because an adult is writing it._

_The consistency of the characters in their interaction with one another has to be there, at least based on my summations. That is, each character, although different than in the books, has to maintain a personality. I like to keep them in character, and I ask that when people review my work, they tell me if the characters deviate from their patterns or if they are consistent? Also is this plot structure believable? To me, these are very important questions to think about when I write._

_I will be adding in the coming chapters some romance elements. Please, keep in mind that when the time does come for Tumnus and Lucy to part for 300 years, a simple shaking hands and 'see you later' would be completely stupid. I'll be posting a statement at the top of that chapter for those reading who aren't into the romantic aspects, but I will not diverge away from it in order to keep people reading. The coming parts will be tastefully and respectfully presented, that is, this story will maintain it's 'T' rating._

_I hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always…reviews are love.

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**Chapter 23: Rachel's Revelation**

Rachel nodded and watched as he made his way down the hall towards Susan's room. She turned back around and began slowly walk towards his office. As soon as she reached it, she used the key to opened the door and come inside.

Making her way to his desk, she reached for the pages that were strewn across it and began to stack them together. As she did, the wardrobe door swung open and she raised her head to see a fleck of gold flash before her eyes.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, but when a voice emerged, she opened them again to hear the voice addressing her. "Greetings Rachel Friedman, Daughter of Eve."

Her eyes abruptly opened and she raised her head as her breath caught in her throat. She began to scan the room and watched as the outer door swung closed and clicked twice.

Quickly, with the pages in her hand, she made her way towards the door. When she reached it and pressed down on the lever, she gasped when the realization hit her that she was now trapped inside a locked room. "W-who said that?" She stammered.

"Fear not, child, no harm will come to you," the voice emerged once again as she began to search the room for the origins of the strange voice. Seconds later, she tried to calm herself down by closing her closed her eyes.

"A-Aslan?" She whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

"Yes, you recognize me," the voice responded.

"I-I recognized your voice, I cannot see you, but I know that you're there," she said. "Why do you come to me now? Is it only because of Susan Pevensie that you have chosen to appear in this place?"

"No, it is because of you, my child," as these words emerged, Aslan appeared and Rachel opened her eyes. When she caught sight of him, she gasped and backed against the wall, her hand covering her mouth. Seeing this action, he continued to speak. "Fear not, I will not harm you."

"I-I'm just not used to meeting lions in a doctor's office is all," she said, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

"Yes, Rachel, I understand, but as I said, you are in no danger here," he said. "I've been waiting for you, Narnia has been waiting for you as well. It just needed to be the right moment is all."

"The right moment?" She whispered. "But even Tumnus said that he had never tried to explain Narnia to an adult before and I am an adult. I had to grow up, Aslan, I had to let go of the childish fancies of my youth. I couldn't stay a child forever," she said. "From the day that Lucy told me of her adventures, I must of looked inside thousands of wardrobes looking for some sort of portal into this world. I wanted to find Narnia…I wanted to find you."

"Wardrobes will not lead you to Narnia, Daughter of Eve," he said softly, but came closer to her. "Come and sit with me, we must talk awhile."

"But, Tumnus, he's waiting outside for me, he needs the pictures," she said.

"Time stands still when I am present, Rachel, time is an element like any other. In the right conditions, it can be controlled," he said. "Now, come and sit with me."

Rachel nodded and walked over to him. As she got closer to him, she could see that his eyes and face were filled with love. As she took her last step towards the sofa, she could feel her legs collapsing beneath her and she landed on the sofa. She closed her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them again, she could see that he was still standing in the room.

After several moments of silence passed between them, she rubbed her hands together nervously. "I wanted to come to Narnia, not just hear someone tell me about it."

"And you shall," he said simply.

"Really?"

"Of course, you have carried yourself in a very queenly manner," he said.

"When Tumnus told me, I didn't believe him at first. He said that I was chosen by you, and my ego kept telling me that I didn't deserve any special treatment. I thought that I wasn't special enough or hadn't proven myself loyal to you," she said softly.

"What have you learned since then?" He asked.

"I-I don't know, Tumnus said so much that made sense, but logic was telling me something else," she said. "Somehow, he made me believe that it was possible."

"Because in your heart you always knew that it was. Your faith is what made you the one who could help Susan better than anyone else here. Although, you had yet to see Narnia, you could still believe in it even after all these years have passed. Faith and trust are very special, but also extremely fragile. Neither of them should be lost even after one has become an adult. Susan was told for much of her life that in order to become an adult, one must let go of the feelings and emotions that connect them to their past. Today, you are helping her discover that this is not necessarily true."

"I did that?" She asked.

"Yes, you along with Bob and Tumnus," he said nodding. "I want you to continue as you have done, and when you are finished, you will see me again and that which you wish for the most will be fulfilled."

"You mean that?" She asked. "I can really and truly see Narnia?"

"If that is your wish, then yes, but Rachel you must understand that it is not a permanent condition. You and Susan will both return to your lives here eventually, and you will live out your days as you are destined, but it will help strengthen the bond that has began to build here in this place."

"That means; no one will die," she whispered.

"No, not just yet. Susan still has a life ahead of her away from this place, and away from the so-called friends who abused and sent her here. She will find strength through her memories just as you have. The connections with the ones she loves will enable her to overcome the obstacles set by the past, and create for her the life that was intended. The same will hold true for you. Somehow, the good memories will give both of you the courage and strength to face whatever comes."

"You really mean that?" She repeated her question in childlike innocence.

"Yes, I know that you're not happy here, and that you want to follow another path, a different path. You will be able to," he said. "Just don't be afraid of opening doors."

"I'm not afraid of that," she said smiling at him.

He nodded as he stood and began to walk slowly towards the wardrobe. "Rachel, you hold the key to bringing them back to Narnia. Not even Tumnus knows that this is the way home. When the moment is right, you, Susan and Tumnus shall enter through this portal and return to Narnia. When that time is over, you and Susan shall return to the present. You will then speak with a Doctor Robert McMullan and through him, you shall leave this place together."

Rachel nodded. "Aslan, will Susan be able to see you?"

"Not until she returns," he said. "I fear that right now, lions terrify her, but you can help ease that fear."

"I'll do anything," she said.

"I know, you already have. Until we meet again, my child," he said and with that he was gone and Rachel was left standing alone in the room for several moments staring at the wardrobe. The door had closed and Aslan had vanished. She returned to the door, pushed down on the lever and was surprised when it gave way. She exited the room and locked the door behind her.

She walked quickly through the corridor in the direction of Susan's room. Seconds later, she caught up with Thomas who had yet to reach the room and she took a deep breath. What Aslan had said was the truth, time had somehow stood still during their meeting.

Practically plowing into him, she spoke. "I saw him, Dr. Jenkins," she gasped and he turned to face her.

"Who did you see?" He asked trying to keep his voice low.

"I saw _him_," her eyes were wide, but instead of speaking the name, she pulled the cigarette package from her pocket and pointed to the wrapper. "Him." She tapped the package for emphasis.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his blue eyes intent as he regarded her.

"Am I sure, how could I miss him? He was there in your office," she whispered and with a quick glance around the corridor, she realized that they were indeed alone. "I saw Aslan," she said trying to keep her voice low, but feeling the emotion getting to her.

"You saw him? But you were only gone a few seconds, if that," he said.

"H-he stopped time somehow," she whispered. "You've got to believe me, I saw him, really I did. He's a lion, a large beautiful golden lion. No one could have missed him, I mean he was larger than life."

"I believe you," he said. "It would stand to reason that he would come, the time for telling Susan the truth is drawing near. What did he say?"

"He said that we have to help Susan remember so that she can come back, but he said that her coming won't be permanent," she said. "H-he said that I could come with you."

Thomas nodded and smiled. "You saw him."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," she took a deep breath. "All of this is real."

"Yes," he stopped and looked at her. "We must go to Susan now. The truth must be told."

"How will she react?" Rachel asked softly.

"I do not know," he said as he reached for her arm. "I want you to come with me, to help me with this."

"If I can," she said. "You must know that when I started my internship here, I was told to stay out of the way, that the doctors here had methods that normal people would not always understand. We had to listen without asking any questions. I always figured that if Susan was having nightmares and other problems that it would be the doctor's task to find out why. Before I met Aslan, I heard Susan screaming his name in her sleep. I didn't know why, or what the reason behind it was. Now I'm somehow drawn into it, and think maybe I'm going crazy. I'm seeing lions and hearing stories about fauns. I don't know what is true anymore."

Nodding, he squeezed her hand. "You obviously trust me, to be able to tell me all these things."

The young intern nodded. "I do trust you and for this place, that's very rare."

"Thank you," he said smiling weakly. "I think we should go to her now. She wishes to do that in the garden, but I do not know if we can fully oblige this request. She may run away from the truth."

"I don't know," she whispered. "Are you sure that I should be there?"

"Aslan chose you to be there, and you must," he said as they reached the door to Susan's room.

As Rachel had predicted, Martin and Brad were standing and peering into the room through the open door. After a few moments, one of them looked at Thomas. "Do you need help in restraining her, Dr. Jenkins?" He asked with a fleeting glance down at the straitjacket that he held in his arms. "Dr. Davenport often asked for our help with her unruly patients and we thought that we'd offer our services to you as well."

Rachel looked at the two men as she tried to suppress the anger building up inside of her. Instead of voicing her discontent, she watched and waited for the doctor to say something.

"No, gentlemen, I do not require your assistance in this matter. If Dr. Davenport had tried to use her psychiatric training as opposed to brute strength to help her patients, then perhaps she would not be in the predicament that she currently faces."

He quickly brushed passed the men. "Rachel, please come inside?"

"You want her to help?" Martin asked.

"Yes, she's a woman and may be able to reach Susan in a way that I cannot. I'd rather not take any chances at the present moment," he said firmly. "I'm sure you understand."

The two men grunted as the intern nodded. "Of course Dr. Jenkins." She cast a glance towards the two orderlies, but followed him into the room.

* * *

As soon as they had entered the room, she pushed the door closed and watched as Thomas walked slowly over to the bed where Susan now lay. She appeared to be asleep and consumed in a nightmare. Her words emerged filled with agony her head moving from side to side as though in denial. He guessed that she was trying without much success to block out the images that were ravaging her mind. 

"No, Aslan…no…please don't let them kill you," she was weeping. "Aslan…please don't be gone. Without you I can't go on."

Thomas sat down beside her and pulled her comfortingly into his arms. She continued to cry in her sleep, her next words causing his eyes to widen. "Oh Lucy, he's dead, she's killed him. He's gone, Aslan's gone." He took a deep breath and began to gently stroke her hair.

"No Susan," he whispered, his voice trying to penetrate her terrified dreams. "Aslan is not dead."

"Aslan…" Susan wept, her hands suddenly reaching out towards an imaginary form. Thomas guessed that it must be Lucy, as Susan had just spoken her younger sister's name several minutes ago. He watched as she sat up, her body trembling uncontrollably.

"You need to hold her," Rachel whispered from her position next to the door. "She's looking for some sort of contact or comfort."

He nodded and with his hands, reached for Susan's upper arms and pulled her firmly, but gently from the sweat covered pillow and into his embrace. As he felt her perspiration covered face meshed against the folds of his jacket, he stroked the back of her head with the palm of his hand. He began to rock her gently until she stirred.

As soon as he felt her moving from beneath his touch, he backed away to see that she had slowly started to open her eyes. Reaching over, he touched her face, but watched as she cringed and backed away.

"Everything is going to be alright, Susan," He whispered as he pulled a crisp, white handkerchief from his pocket and using it, he reached over and touched her face. "Hey, hey," he said in very much the same manner as Lucy often did when she comforted him. He continued to rub the piece of fabric across her dampened face, but no further words emerged.

Rachel stood watching as the doctor held the weeping woman in his arms and she shook her head. Susan seemed to be reacting to him in a very positive manner. She took a deep and staggering breath. "Aslan," she whispered.

This simple word seemed to catalyze yet another group of memories to send him back to Narnia. Internally, he knew what needed to be done, but instead of speaking, he tightened his hold on Susan's trembling body as his thoughts sent him plummeting back to the past.


	25. Second Thoughts

_a/n: This looks to be the last chapter for awhile. I leave on Thursday to go on vacation, will be gone for two weeks, but when I get back around the first of September, I'll hopefully have the next installment ready for you._

_I did edit this somewhat in response to Megastar Mog's comments.   
_

_I hope that you enjoy this latest installment, and Chapter 25 will contain those foretold romance elements._

**Chapter 24: Second Thoughts **

**Flashback to Narnia**

As Aslan's words emerged Lucy raised her head and looked at the mighty lion, a question looming. "Who would go?"

"Me," Tumnus said softly, his expression filled with sadness as he brushed his hand across her tearstained face. "I will go."

"No," Lucy shook her head. "You cannot."

"Why?" He asked. "Someone must go, Lucy, someone who knows Susan and has the ability to help her find her way back."

"Why can't someone else go, like Oreius or one of the beavers?" Lucy whispered, her voice filled with desperation.

Both Aslan and Tumnus could instinctively tell that Lucy would not trade one life for another, but her words had emerged out of her own indescribable fear. "We could not expect that of them," Tumnus whispered. "You know that, Lucy."

"Yes, and they did not volunteer. The idea of someone going and trying to reach Susan was Tumnus' and not anyone else's," Aslan said gently. "You must understand Dear One, that the task of going into England is a difficult one. It will take all the strength and resolve that is in Tumnus' heart to achieve what must be done."

"You can't go," she reached for his hands and when she held both of them in hers, she continued to weep softly. "You can't leave me alone like this. Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do," he said softly. "It is for that reason that I must. I know you're terribly afraid of what must be, but your dreams are happening for a reason, my dearest." He released her hands so that he could cup her face gently, but firmly in both of his hands. "Lucy, you must trust that Aslan knows what he is doing, and entrusting me to go back, then perhaps I can help Susan in a way that no one else can."

"Yes," the lion said, his voice a soft hum. "Dear One, something has indeed happened to your sister. I must tell you both that what has transpired with her has been nothing short of tragic and devastating."

"W-what do you mean?" Lucy asked softly.

"I mean, your sister is facing an evil far greater than you can imagine. The place where she lives and the experiences that she has had, have been very painful. Not only that, but there is a harsh and cruel essence in her life. It is one that I fear someone must go back and defeat. It will be through this sacrifice that they will assist in helping her find her way back to her family and her friends here. That is, if she is to ever come back to Narnia at all."

"The chosen one?" Tumnus whispered. "But who is it?"

"As I have said to you when we spoke before, there is a chosen one who will help. You will know her when you see her, Tumnus," the lion said sternly and the faun's blue eyes widened.

"Why are you so certain that I can do this?" Tumnus asked. "You granted me the right to go, but I do not know if I am capable of helping Susan in the manner of which you speak. What if I fail? What if there is someone else who is better suited for this task?"

"There is no one better suited, you are not as intricately involved in her destiny as her brothers or Lucy are," Aslan began. "In taking on this task, you can help Susan Pevensie discover much more than Narnia."

"You are speaking in riddles," Lucy whispered. "How can Tumnus go and help Susan, he's a faun, and…" her voice trailed off and she lowered her head.

"I know that this is very difficult for you to understand, it is quite strange for me to explain, as Narnia and the world of man are separate entities," Aslan said gently. "I must, however, explain what specifically happened to your sister after you came to live in Narnia for the last time."

"Tell me," Lucy begged, but seeing the earnest expression on Aslan's face, caused her to swallow nervously. "Please, Aslan, tell me what is happening with Susan."

As Aslan began to tell Lucy what had transpired with her sister, both he and Tumnus watched as all the color faded from the young woman's face. "And you think that her dreams and mine are somehow linked, is that it?"

"Yes."

"So there really is a link between what is happening here and in Spare Oom?" Lucy asked, as the realization hit her. This would explain all of her terrifying dreams.

"Yes, it is a sign that you and Susan are linked, that the bond between you both is rather strong," Aslan said with a slow nod. "The dreams you have are the very same as Susan's, the only difference is that your dreams are from your perspective and Susan's is from hers."

Lucy unconsciously trembled, but instead of speaking, she watched as the noble lion took a deep breath and began to speak. "After the train accident claimed your earthly life, Dear One, your sister faced a loss greater than anything she could have imagined. She lost her entire family all at once, and no matter how superficial she may have become, a loss of this magnitude cannot simply be hidden away."

"So you're saying that she was grieving, correct?" Tumnus asked softly.

Aslan shook his head. "No, simple grieving does not even begin to describe what happened to her after the telegram came. Susan had denied the existence of Narnia for many years prior to that news. Yet, it was the expectations of others that caused her to withdraw from Narnia. Your undying faith, hurt her because she wished that she had it. She envied it, but would never have admitted it."

Lucy took a deep breath. "Susan and I used to argue almost constantly about Narnia and it was because I never stopped believing in it."

"Yes, and it was after your life ended there, that she began to realize that she wasted so much time trying to convince herself of what was real and what was not. She ended up losing you and your brothers as a result and this was long before you came to Narnia for the last time. Today, she wants to take back what she had denied herself all those years, the chance to be a child again. It is more than just being sad, my children, Susan lost a part of herself in the experience. Through it, she sank deeper and deeper into a state of despair. Her reality has become a direct opposite of the joy you discovered in finding yourselves here."

Lucy swallowed. "I can't imagine," she whispered, the tears welling up beneath her eyes and she looked at Aslan. "What can we do? She's my sister."

"I know that, Dear One, and I know that this is not the closing of the chapter to Susan's experiences, but that her story is just at the beginning," Aslan said solemnly. "After sinking into the depths of sadness, Susan found herself without a home, family, and friends. She literally began to wander from place to place. She had intended on going out to the country to see Sir Digory's house once again, but not having the means in which to travel, she found herself becoming a drifter of sorts."

"If you know all of this, then why didn't you do something about it? Why didn't you help her?" Lucy asked as she backed away from him.

"It was her choice, Lucy, I could not have left even the slightest impact on the choices that she had made. I simply could not have gotten involved," he said softly. "Any memory that one has of another cannot be affected if they refuse to acknowledge it. You have a memory of me, that stayed alive in your heart until you came home."

"Perhaps, but Aslan, you told Susan that she would not be able to come back to Narnia," Lucy said bravely. "You said so yourself that she could have return because she was too old."

"Yes, but you also remember I said it to Peter as well, and he did not forget," he said. "The truth is, Narnia will always exist as long as you don't forget about it."

"When you told me that I wouldn't be able to come back, I thought my heart was going to shatter into thousands of tiny fragments," Lucy said. "But I could not forgot."

Aslan nodded. "I know, you never did."

"You always chose to watch over Queen Susan," Tumnus whispered as he looked at the noble lion. "You saw something in her that was different than anyone else."

"Yes I did, I tried to reach her through dreams and visions, but she screamed and I knew that my presence frightened her. Sometimes, she draws me into her dreams without knowing it, and other times I freely go to her. Yet, now she lives in a terrible state, alone and miserable. The road ahead for her may not be easy, in fact, what she will face in the future can only be lightened if someone from Narnia were to go to the world of man and help her. You recognized this from the start of Lucy's dreams, Tumnus."

"I want to go too, I want to be where Tumnus is," Lucy whispered.

"He knows that, but you also realize that deep inside there is no way for you to do that, dearest," Tumnus whispered and shook his head. "If she were to see you, it would be like seeing a ghost and she would become terrified." He turned and looked at Aslan. "You said that my destiny meant that I must go and I am ready."

The lion nodded, thus affirming the faun's words, but he looked at Lucy, his golden eyes filled with gentility. "I cannot send you to your sister, Lucy, for your presence may complicate the situation to an irreparable degree." He turned and looked at Tumnus. "As you know, there is a risk involved. The first is that you may possibly fail, and Susan will not be able to come home at all. That means that the time you spend there will be for nothing and lost. The second risk is that about three hundred Narnian years will go by in your absence. For you, it will not seem like very much, but for Lucy..."

"…That's an eternity," she interrupted.

"Yes, I know," Aslan said softly. "Finally, and this is something that I am repeating for Lucy's awareness. In Spare Oom, as you so call it, you will experience physical struggles and limitations. In the human world, you will walk with a limp, your body will not be completely accustomed to movement in the manner in which humans are."

Lucy reached over and touched the faun's shoulder. "D-do you want to do this?" She asked softly.

"I must," Tumnus said. "If I can, then I will make sure that I try everything in my power to help Queen Susan return to Narnia."

Lucy looked at Aslan. "But three hundred years?" She whispered. "I will be without him for that long?"

Aslan nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid you will."

Lucy looked at the noble lion. "When must he go?"

"He shall leave at the next new moon," Aslan said softly.

"That's tomorrow, but I want one more night," she whispered and looked at Aslan, her eyes filled with sadness. "Please, grant us that."

"It is granted," the lion said gently and turned to face Tumnus. "First thing tomorrow, your journey shall begin at the spot where the lamppost in Old Narnia stands." Once those words were spoken, the lion silently stood up and left Lucy's cozy cottage.

**Flashback End**

As he felt himself catapulted back to the present, Thomas glanced over to see that Rachel was in the corner of the room and staring at them. Slowly, she took a hesitant step towards them as she pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and extended it to him. "Here, use this," she said softly when she saw that his face was streaked with tears.

He accepted the piece of cloth and wiped a corner of it over his eyes, the moisture leaving small round spots of wetness against it. "Thank you," he said simply.

"It was actually for her," Rachel said. "Her face is completely wet."

"Oh, of course, how foolish of me," He mumbled with a simple nod. He took a second corner of the small piece of cloth and began to wipe it gently over her face as the moisture seeped through it.

"What should we do now?" She asked as he extended the handkerchief back to her. "No, keep it, it seems you and she need it more than I do," she said and watched as he stuffed it into the pocket of his lab coat.

For several minutes, they remained seated as Susan drifted off to sleep, her body limply lying in Thomas' arms. "How long do you think she'll sleep this time?" She asked.

"I don't know, but I'm afraid that there is not much we can do now. For whatever reason, Susan has blocked herself out of Narnia. Aslan indicated that he was somehow linked to her unconscious memories. She has not yet spoken of him except through her sleep, and I fear that these memories are simply too much for her to bear."

"How can you be so certain of that?" Rachel asked.

"I cannot give any proof to back up this theory, but it is more than obvious that she is deeply traumatized by anything dealing with it," he said sadly, but it was at this moment that he was at a loss as to what to do. "I fear that I must leave soon and it will be without her. My promise shall go unfulfilled. I realize now that I cannot tell Susan the truth, it may destroy her."

"But you cannot just keep silent about this," Rachel looked at him. "After all the years of work you subjected yourself to, you know perfectly well that Susan needs to hear the truth. Not from me, but from you."

Thomas looked at Rachel and then down at Susan. "I cannot..."

"You have to," Rachel said. "I'll help you, but you must tell her the truth. You cannot just leave London without having finished this task. To do so would be cowardly, and I know that you're not a coward. Tumnus, you also know that I'm right."

"Yes, I do, but it is not easy," he said brokenly.

"You knew that when Aslan asked you to take on this task, but yet you agreed to take it on. You must trust that he knows that you can do this?" Rachel asked, her voice low.

Thomas looked down at Susan as she slept in his arms. Instead of responding to these words, he gently laid her body against the pillows and pulled the blanket off the foot of the bed and covered her with it.

"You know that you cannot run away from her," Rachel eventually said. "It no longer matters how afraid you are, you can't just leave her in this state and expect everything to be fine and dandy in the morning. It won't be and you know perfectly well that your presence here has affirmed it. You didn't just drop from the heavens and change Bob and me, you also changed Susan Pevensie, you gave her hope and enabled her to remember."

"I keep remembering my last night in Narnia and how much Lucy counted on me to be successful. I made her a promise, Rachel, but whenever I look at Susan and hear her screaming Aslan's name, I wonder how much she does remember or if she's ready to remember everything on a conscious level. I don't want to push her, but my time is running out."

"Do you know why she is dreaming this stuff and waking up screaming?" Rachel asked. Without waiting for him to answer, she continued speaking. "The memories are struggling to get out, that's why she's having so many bad dreams that tie back to that time in her life. The dreams are her way of coping with what she's remembering about her life. She remembers Narnia only on a subconscious level, but she's blocking it on a conscious level. She doesn't want to remember it, because it reminds her of the pain."

"That's what I was told when all of this started," he said. "I was also told that I could risk failure."

"Failure that will be assured if you say nothing," Rachel said. "If you decided to walk out of here, then you will guarantee failure, but if you tell her, you have a chance of saving her spirit. I know this is not easy, and you are frightened, but look at how far you've come. You've given up a part of your existence to come to this place and help her. You have practically reached that threshold and now you want to back down. You can't and you know it. What is now left is that you have to tell her. At the very least, show her these," she glanced down at the pictures that now lay strewn on the bed. "You have to remind her that her childhood is not lost, it's just buried beneath make up, dance cards, dating, and grief. She's lost her family, and now she's losing herself, Tumnus. You have to tell her, help her out of this hell that she's created for herself."

He looked up and nodded. "I know you're right, but look at her."

"Only you can help her see the truth for what it is," she said simply.


	26. The Beginning of a New Adventure

_a/n: As I said in the preceeding chapters, this chapter does contain some romantic aspects and I will not even try to write a chapter without them, it's simply not possible at this stage in the story. As I said, there is nothing graphic contained here, in fact it is rather mild to what some would define as a real romance story. _

_This chapter does contain a centric focus on the emotion of love as well as the act of sacrifice, so there is a lot of emotion going on. I sincerely hope that you'll bear with the chapter as well as the next and not flame me for writing it. The fact is; this chapter was increasingly difficult to write as well as edit because I didn't want to go too far over the top with the romantical aspects since this isn't a romance story._

_At any rate, I want to thank all of you for reading, and want to let you know that I am not leaving town for a while, so hopefully this story will be finished before anymore trips are taken. Lucky you. _

_Please read and review._

_With that said, enjoy.  
_

**Chapter 25: The Beginning of a New Adventure  
**

Thomas Jenkins took a deep and staggering breath as he remembered the last night with Lucy before leaving Narnia and coming to England. It was as through his conscious memories were suddenly clear about that night. It was centered on a promise that he had made, and this, if anything, enabled him to come this far. At least, that was what he seemed to remember over all else. The words he had spoken to Lucy ravaged his mind, and brought tears to his eyes.

It was his conversation with Lucy, that would ravage his consciousness as opposed to the dialogue with Aslan prior to embarking on this journey.

He looked down at Susan's unmoving face. "Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. Moments later, he raised his head and found himself looking into Rachel's confused eyes.

"What did you say?" She asked.

"That was what Aslan said at the coronation," he explained. "When Susan was crowned, he dubbed her with the name 'Queen Susan the Gentle' and…"

"…Let me guess, Peter became Magnificent, Edmund became Just, and Lucy became Valiant," Rachel finished for him. "At least now something else about Susan makes sense to me."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Back when Davenport was still here, Susan would use these words to describe her siblings almost all the time. Then when you took the case, she would sometimes refer to these names as though in a dream-state. I found it quite peculiar how she used the adjectives to describe them instead of speaking of them by name. Only this morning, I discovered that she remembered the names, because when she spoke of her sister, she called her by her given name."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"I don't know, why, maybe it slipped my mind. You have to admit that a great many things have been happening here during the last few days. At any rate, I figured that the names she had used were rather like nicknames. My uncle used to lovingly call me 'Munchkin'. I truly had no idea that they were titles. If I had known, then I would have told you straightaway," Rachel responded. "So can you can tell me what these names mean and why they had them?"

"There is not much to explain. Susan is, regardless of what happens here, a queen of Narnia. She will forever be recognized as such. Even if she decides to forget Aslan's or Narnia's existence, she will not be forgotten by Aslan or Narnia. What I fear though is that the truth may be harder for her to bear than anything else. She is a queen and for some time, I shamefully had started to forget that. I have always seen her as being Lucy's elder sister. In the depths of my heart, I know that it was for Lucy that I chose to come here. I simply am remembering the promises that I made to her regarding Susan. Now that my memories are returning, I have come to discover that I'm not just here to help Susan come back to Narnia. I am also here to help her face the life here that she has allowed to pass her by. This has very little, if nothing, to do with what I promised Lucy."

"Yes, I know, that's what you told me back at your flat," Rachel said. "You said that it was important for her to remember."

"Yes," he looked down at Susan's face. "Rachel, I truly do want to do what's right. Of course, I know that I must keep my word, but I also realize that when I speak of Narnia, I must do so in a way that will not frighten or scare Susan."

"The longer you keep her in the dark, the more frightened and confused she will become the moment you decide to tell her. You must make her aware of this as soon as possible, but try to convey the ideas gently and in a non-threatening way," Rachel said.

"I will do what I can, but now I must admit that I am afraid," he whispered as a slight blush tinged his otherwise serious face.

Without consciously being able to stop himself, he looked down at Susan taut face before biting down hard on his lip. As he tasted the saltiness of his own blood, his thoughts began to impulsively wander.

He drew himself into an almost trancelike state as he began to recall the last night he had spent in Narnia. His skin began to tingle as his memories seemed to swallow him alive. He could not forget the last hours he had spent with Lucy before meeting Aslan and finding himself catapulted into Spare Oom. "I want to do the right thing," he whispered, all the while not sure if these words were being spoken to Rachel, or to the memories that seemed to unravel in his mind.

"No one is doubting that, Tumnus," Rachel's words emerged, but for some strange reason, he failed to hear them. Eventually, she leaned over and rested her hand on his shoulder. "The longer you stall, the less your chance of fulfilling the promises that you have made. The time is drawing near for you to tell Susan everything, even the things that may actually frighten or terrify the both of you."

"I think now you know why Aslan chose you. You have a courage inside of you that is truly remarkable," he whispered as he felt the hurricane of emotion drawing him back to his memories. He reached for her hand and squeezed it before allowing it to fall away.

Rachel watched as he drifted off once more into this trancelike state. "Tumnus?" She whispered his name, but no answer emerged.

Thomas could no longer stop the rush of memories and emotion even if he wanted to. They seemed to curse through him like a raging river flowing along the shoreline. The night spent in Lucy's company would mark his life changing and Narnia becoming the dream that melts away into a new reality.

**Flashback to Narnia**

As dusk had fallen on Narnia, the stars began to peer out and dot the sky outside of Lucy's cozy house. The afternoon's events had been so hard for her, she had cried more than she could ever remember. Her cheeks were red with blotches left by the hot tears that had streamed down over her face. She could barely remember Aslan's departure nor the door silently closing behind him.

Collapsing into Tumnus' embrace only seconds later, she could feel her tear-stained face meshed against Tumnus' bare chest, the warmth of it literally swallowing her whole.

Tumnus could feel her arms winding around and holding tightly to him. No words emerged from her, instead she held him, her fingernails digging into his back. Upon feeling this, he cringed from beneath them.

"Not so hard, my love," he whispered as he abruptly felt her fingernails restricting somewhat.

For her part, Lucy did not know what was worse, her suggestion to sending another in instead of Tumnus, or having to live out three hundred years without him. Suddenly, time and trivia seemed to rush by as though in a blur. Internally, she wished that she had never let Tumnus talk Aslan into allowing him to go, but knew that there was no turning back.

She curled her feet up under her body, her entire weight now leaning awkwardly against him. Her gaze, which was unable to hold his for more than a minute, was now staring blankly out the window. His soft blue eyes looked down at her, but after awhile, his eyes followed her gaze and he found himself staring at the sky as well. Outside, the bold patterns of soft blues and light purples and pinks seemed to adorn the small cottage.

Minute by minute, Lucy watched as the sky grew darker and darker, her heart feeling heavier as each heartbeat sounded from within the confines of her chest.

After some time had passed, she allowed her body to stretch out, her head resting against the cool warmth of his favorite red muffler and her hands stroking the fabric of his scarf ever so slightly.

As the house succumbed to the darkness, Lucy began to shiver and lowered her hands to hug herself insecurely. She was cold, but did not seem willing to move, she wanted to stay resting on his lap even if her eyes did not dare meet his. She closed her eyes as she felt his fingertips rubbing along her wet face.

Seconds later, she opened her eyes when his touch was no longer there. Instead, he had reached over to the neighboring chair, grabbed a small blanket, and was carefully shaking it out. He covered her with it, his soft eyes staring down at her.

"Is that better?" He asked softly.

"You knew I was cold?" She whispered.

"I could tell, you had small bumps on your arms, indicating that you were cold," he admitted. As he spoke, she could hear a sense of sadness that was meshed into these words.

She nodded as she closed her eyes. From beneath the blanket, she fought to pull her hand out from beneath its folds. "Tumnus, I don't want to fall asleep," she whispered as she tried to reach for one of his hands.

"But you need your rest," he objected, his voice remaining firm and she pondered if he was trying only to sound brave for her sake.

"Do you think I will actually be able to rest knowing what is about to happen?" She whispered hoarsely. "You're leaving tomorrow to go away for three hundred years." She touched his arm. "That's an eternity for me."

"I know, for me it will be that as well," he said, his eyes once more opening and he looked down into her face. "Lucy, I love you. I must ask you if you will be patient and wait for me?"

She swallowed as she finally managed to capture his hand, her fingers now holding it so tightly his fingers had started to change color. Instead of cringing, he waited for her answer. "I will," she whispered. "Tumnus, I always thought that when we were once more together here in Narnia that there would be nothing that would come between or separate us. Now there is, and I feel as though my heart is breaking."

"I know," he whispered, the tears now stinging his eyes.

"I believed that there existed nothing that would ever take me away from you. But this time, it's not me being taken away from you, it's you being taken away from me." She licked her lips slowly and continued to speak, her voice now cracking. "Now you're going to leave me and there won't be anyone who can change it. Why would Aslan agree to let you do this?" She wiped her free hand over her face, but could still feel the tears.

Tumnus leaned over and touched her face with his gentle fingertips. "Do you remember when we would sit on the floor in my cave reading books and talking?"

"I remember. It would seem that they will now be the only source of comfort for me when you are no longer here," she whispered.

"There were times that I wished that I could do more than just read poetry or recite a sonnet to you," he confessed. "My heart was always with you, even when we were not together. You see, there was always a part of me that belonged only to you. The bond between us started on that day when we scared each other at the lamppost. From that moment, the feelings I carried for you grew and evolved. They went from being solely your friend and confidant to the feelings that I carry for you at this very moment." He took a deep breath. "I watched as you grew from a child into a lovely woman practically overnight, and I began to feel that what existed in my heart had grown and changed somehow. There was no way for me to stop or try to change these emotions, they existed and I could not simply explain them away. Of course, I felt wrong in my feelings, you are a Daughter of Eve, and I am a faun, but yet to this day, they remained."

"Tumnus, I told you a long time ago that none of that mattered to me," she whispered.

"I know and I feel myself deeply blessed by your honesty," he said sincerely. "But, Lucy, there is far more to me than just wanting to take you in my arms, kiss you, and show you in a physical way that I love and cherish you. There exists an internal yearning from the depths of my being to do something to show you the extent of my love and devotion towards you. When I saw how unhappy you have been, I realized that this could be the very opportunity I yearned for opening itself up to me."

"You mean the sacrifice," she whispered and sat up. "You're doing this as a sign of your love for me?"

"Yes," he nodded. "For much of my life I have never found the courage or ability to show anyone the extent of my caring. During the last days, I feared that it would be increasingly hard for me to convince Aslan that I was sincere with these intentions. I had to do a great deal of work in convincing myself that I was proposing this for all the right reasons. This instinct goes far beyond any romantic intentions that I may carry for you. It touches the depths of all things that make up what I am. I hope that you will always remember that, especially during the times when I cannot be with you. I would give up everything to ensure that you will live your life in joy and happiness."

He reached over and touched the side of her face with the side of his hand. When he felt her tears against his skin, he pulled her gently into his embrace. "No, please, don't cry, if you cry, then I shall most likely start and never stop." He pulled the handkerchief from beneath the folds of his scarf and shook it out. "We only have one between us." Using the corner of it, he carefully began to wipe the tears from beneath her eyes.

"That's so beautiful," she whispered as she sank into his hold, her cheek feeling the softness of his scarf. "No one's ever loved me so much that they would do all of this for me before."

He slowly backed away from her in order to run his fingers across her cheeks. As he did, he leaned towards her and smiling secretly, he spoke. "There are many in Narnia who love you, Lucy Pevensie, you just have yet to know how much. Yet, their love and adoration are only a shadow of the love I feel in my own heart for you."

"Perhaps," she whispered as she reached over and touched his face, the curly hair of his beard gently stroking her fingertips. "Tumnus, we have so little time."

"I know," he whispered. He took the other corner of the handkerchief and blotted his own eyes with it. "Time must not run out on us," he whispered. Gently, he took both sides of her face in his hands and stroked it for several moments before his head lowered and his lips met hers.

As the kiss broke several moments later, she felt a soft blush tinge her cheeks. "I have dreamt of you kissing me for such a long time. Why didn't you ever do it before?"

"Perhaps, I felt it was not appropriate," he said softly. "I also didn't want to leave you without knowing this feeling." He touched her cheek gently and smiled down at her. "The love I feel for you goes way beyond simply primal urges, it is special, endearing…"

"…Spiritual," she finished for him.

"Yes, spiritual," he nodded. "A kiss is like the sharing of the soul, it becomes a sign of love, and although I knew that you loved me, I didn't know how much until you had told me of your love. That is what I shall carry with me when I leave Narnia."

She nodded, but closing her eyes, and unable to stop herself, Lucy drifted off to sleep.

He closed his eyes for a moment as the silence literally consumed him. Instead of waking her, he slid his way from beneath her weight and gently laid her sleeping form back against the sofa.

Getting to his hooves, he carefully picked her up in his arms, carried her into her chamber, and gently laid her on the bed. He stared down at her unmoving form as the tears caught in his eyes.

This would be his last night with her. Tomorrow, he would be in Spare Oom and living the life of a man. Could I really live in that way? He asked himself. Shaking his head, and without contemplating the consequences of his actions, he crawled onto the bed and laid down next to her.

With his legs hanging halfway off the bed, he watched as her body inched its way over to him, her arms draping over his back. It was in this position, that he drifted off to sleep.


	27. The Unbreakable Promise

_Dear Readers, _

_In lieu of the last group of feedback, I feel that it is important for me to explain something. I know and understand that every person reading has every right in the world to feel stronger about one chapter of my work over another. I take no offense to that, I have chapters that I have read and written that I am more fond of than others._

_In the wake of receiving notes from people stating that they do not like the romance in this story, I want to remind everyone that I did give adequate warning that this element would be present and will not apologize for it. I feel that it is unacceptable for me to feel as though I should have to clarify my including a little romance in this work. I have tried rather hard with both chapter 25 and this one to keep the romance at a minimum._

_Now, I do understand and respect that people don't like romance in certain stories, however, I have said time and again that these aspects are there for a reason. I can honestly say that given the last chapter's review numbers, that not very many people reading are particularly fond of this issue, and I completely understand. However, given that I have been spending well over a half a year working on this particular storyline, I ask only that you folks reading bear with these two chapters and not flame me for writing something that I feel is of significance to this particular story even if some of you do not._

_I can't thank you enough for reading, and I truly do appreciate the reviews that you have been leaving. I also know that in writing this story, I have made certain concessions to ideas given forth by those of you reading. However, with that said, this is one element of my story that I adamantly refuse to sacrifice._

_With that said, I give you, chapter 26._

**Chapter 26: The Unbreakable Promise**

When Tumnus stirred, it was several hours later. It was still dark, but he got up, went over to the window, and drew the curtains aside. It was close to dawn, he could tell because although it was still dark, he could see that the sky was starting to get brighter in the distance. Slowly, he pulled the curtains once more over the window and turned around.

As he began to rub his eyes sleepily, he looked down at the bed and could see that Lucy lay sprawled across it. Her body was half covered by the blankets, her arm draped over the side of the bed, a handkerchief clenched tightly in her fist.

Although he had rested somewhat adequately, his body yearned for more sleep. Physically, he was exhausted, but emotionally he was anxious and scared, thus unable to rest. He stooped down so that he could behold her as she slept. The night before, they had kissed for the first time, and this brought a small smile to his, otherwise troubled, face.

He crawled slowly back onto the bed, his body inching closer so that it would snugly rest against hers. Smiling, he recalled the level of closeness they had shared the night before. Why ever did I wait to share those feelings with her? He asked himself almost constantly. I have spent so much time waiting and now something wonderful has happened on the day I must leave Narnia. He could see that her eyes were still closed and he smiled weakly as he wound his arms around her and buried his face against her shoulder, the soft hair cushioning his face.

He dozed for a time and when he opened his eyes again, the light from outside shone around the curtains. He took a deep breath and released it slowly as he leaned closer to her ear and touched her face gently. "Lucy," he whispered her name as his fingertips continued to cascade down over her face. "Wake up Dearest."

Lucy moaned softly and slowly opened her eyes. "Tumnus?" She moaned once she recognized that he was towering over her. "How long have I been asleep?"

"You drifted off soon after darkness had befallen and I didn't have the heart to wake you," he said softly. "But now I must, as it is nearly time for me to go."

"Why did you let me fall asleep?" She spoke, her voice indicative that she was now wide awake.

"I do not know, I brought you to your room and soon after that I too fell asleep," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "It was unintentional, but I was glad that you didn't have any nightmares."

"As long as you are with me, I won't," she whispered as she cuddled up to him. Moments lapsed and he could feel the softness of her dressing gown pressing against his body. Despite himself, he smiled.

"You know something?" He whispered, his voice etched with emotion as he continued to stroke her face. Through that action alone, he could feel the moisture from the tears that covered it.

"What?" She whispered, her voice emerging as though she was pouting, and he smiled upon hearing these words. He sat up, but pulled her gently up with him. Once they were both in a sitting position, he spoke. "Lucy, Susan will come back to Narnia and you will be happy again."

"What makes you so sure?" She asked.

"I don't know. Faith, perhaps," he said. "It's like this strange feeling that I have that keeps telling me that everything is going to be alright. I cannot ignore it, I must simply accept it." He smiled weakly as he reached over and touched the side of her face. Through this act alone, he could feel the moistness against his fingers. Yet, despite her grief and disheveled state, she still looked lovely to him. "Just try to believe it," he whispered.

"Who are you trying to convince?" She responded in kind. "Yourself or me?"

He took a deep breath as a blush crept up his cheeks and thus gave his answer away. "I would be lying if I were to tell you that I am not frightened by what could lie beyond Narnia's borders. I must venture into Spare Oom alone, and am not sure what will happen to me once I get there. Aslan affirmed that would be difficult, but I thought I could handle it. Now that the moment of my departure is drawing nearer, I am uncertain."

Lucy leaned over to him and brushed her lips against his, the kiss chaste as her gaze came to rest on the window. He was right, she thought, time seemed to be steadily running out for both of them. "All that I do know is that Narnia won't be the same without you, Tumnus." As she spoke, her free hand reached over until it was lightly touching his curly hair. "Tumnus," she repeated his name, if but only for the sake of hearing his name emerging from her. Eventually, she raised her head and looked at him, her lips a mere centimeter from his own. "Please, no matter what happens, promise me that you'll come back."

The faun slowly raised his head and nodded. "I promise," he said as he closed his eyes only to feel the moisture covering his own face. He continued to gently stroke her face, his blue eyes filled with sadness. He pulled her into his embrace as he took a deep breath. "I promise," he repeated as he slowly pressed his lips against hers. After a few seconds, he could feel hers softened against the pressure and she wound her arms around him. They sat for several moments as their tears fell and meshed against their joined lips.

As the salty tearful kisses ended, she felt her body literally collapsing against the faun's chest, her soft sobs filling the room.

"I don't know if I can bear to see you walk away from me," she wept. "Once you go, who's to say that you wouldn't forget Narnia and never come back?" She kept her hands pressed against his chest but shook her head. "Tumnus, why ever did you agree to do this?"

"It's very much like I told you last night," he said softly. "Your happiness is what keeps me alive inside, Lucy Pevensie." As these words emerged, he backed slowly away from her and took her face gently in his hands and began to wipe her tears away with his thumbs. "I could not stand to see the light that dwells in your spirit go out. I knew that if I could somehow stop it, then I would."

"You'll forget me in that place, though, I just know it," she cried.

"I could never forget you and I won't forget," he said with an adamant shake of his head. "Lucy, I know you need your sister, and from what Aslan has conveyed to me, she seems to need you as well."

"But must I sacrifice you in order for her to come back?" She whispered as she began to tremble uncontrollably. "I never realized just how much I truly loved you until now and it's because I know I'm losing you."

Tumnus shook his head. "No, Lucy, you're not, you won't ever lose me. I will always come back to you. I swear by Aslan's name that I will come home when all of this is over and we shall live together for an eternity. After our reunion, then I shall never leave you again. The others can revel in as many adventures as they would like, but I will keep this promise to you," he smiled gently as he lowered his hands from her face.

Lucy nodded. "I love you," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"I love you, too, my dearest," he managed to speak.

They sat this way for some time, neither of them uttering a sound. As the room became brighter and brighter, she eventually raised her head. "It's time for you to leave, is it not?"

Tumnus nodded. "Yes, will you journey with me to the meeting place?"

She nodded, all the while trying to play off being braver than she truly was. "I don't know if I can do this," she whispered as he slid from their embrace. She tightened her hold on him as he started to stand. "No, not yet."

"I must, Lucy, I cannot keep Aslan waiting," he said as he managed to get to his hooves. He reached for her hands and helped her to her feet. "Would you do me the honor of seeing me to the lamppost?" He asked softly as he reached for his scarf.

"There is no lamppost, Tumnus," she whispered.

"Then see me to the place where I must meet Aslan and journey into Spare Oom," he said softly. "You know I have to do this."

"I cannot get over the fact that I am to blame for all of this, I shouldn't have said anything," she whispered.

"You needed to, in the same way that Susan must accept the truth," he said softly. "You wish for nothing more than to one day see Susan again, to see her happy and to know that all is well with her. It is a wish that Aslan has granted me the opportunity to fulfill. Perhaps he knew from the start that this must be, that fate has a way of defining our destinies. I know that it seems odd and is very difficult for you to believe, but I really do want to do this for you. I want to be successful and know that when I come back home, I will not be coming home alone…"

She reached for his arm and looked up at him, her eyes swimming in tears, but her teeth biting bravely down over her lower lip. As she released it, she looked at him and spoke, her voice barely audible. "Then I'll see you to the lamppost," she whispered and reached for his hand.

**Flashback End**

"I remember…" Thomas said as the tears fell from his closed eyes. "It was hard."

"To leave?" Rachel asked and Thomas opened his eyes as realization hit him that he was still in Susan's room, and Rachel was sitting next to him.

She now sat next to him, her hands holding the pictures that they had brought from his office. "It is always hard to embark on a new journey, that's what my father once said."

"He was right," he said as he looked down at Susan's unmoving body.

"Yes, he was," Rachel looked down at Susan. "The sooner you tell her everything, the sooner you can go back home," she said as she began to arrange the pictures in the order she believed that he would be requesting them.

"I know you're right, but I can't help but remember the promises I made," he said.

"You mean the one you made to Lucy before you left Narnia?" Rachel asked.

"Yes, I told her that I would come back home, and that I wouldn't be alone," he looked back down at Susan. "I promised that I would do everything I could to bring her sister home. I didn't just promise her that though. I think I promised myself this as well. I was so determined to succeed, yet I fear that perhaps I failed."

"You haven't yet, but that's only because you haven't said anything yet," Rachel said.

"I told Lucy before I left that I was afraid, but now I can almost sense that Susan will share that same fear. Like she experienced when she saw the lion in her dreams."

"Fear is a terrible beast, Tumnus," Rachel said. "Overcoming that can be an act of courage in and of itself."

"Yes, and strangely, I have spent much of my life being as inconspicuous a coward as possible," he began. "This was supposed to be my one opportunity..." his voice trailed.

"…To be valiant?" Rachel asked.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Well, then you have to do this now, no matter how much you internally wish you could crawl under that virtual rock and hide, it must be done," Rachel said firmly. "You're not a coward, Tumnus, you're very brave. If you don't tell Susan what happened and give her the chance to choose, then you will fail without having even tried, and that would be the coward's way out." She extended the pictures to him and watched as he accepted the small stack and placed them on the bedside table.

He bit down on his lip as he looked down at the young woman who rested in his arms. "Susan, wake up," he began to speak, his voice soft, but filled with urgency. "Come on, wake up. It's time for me to tell you everything."


	28. Haunted by the Past

_a/n: Well, now we're starting to change gears and get to the meat of the matter. I wanted to explain my comments from the last chapter. I love writing all kinds of stories; romances, humorous bits, dramas, angst, and spiritual stuff. The biggest problem that I have as a writer is being lumped into one specific kind of story, a sort of typecasting, if you will. Most of my Narnia stories except for this and the Mary Sue story are shipping stories that are basically centered on Lucy and Tumnus. I won't apologize for that, and I hope that the stories are not doubled up on 'sappiness' and 'cheese'._

_The truth is, this story was my way of trying to break away from just one genre or area of Narnia writing. I don't want to be known as the writer who only writes Tumnus and Lucy shipping, I love writing those silly little pieces, but I also realized a long time ago that that is only one area of Narnia writing and Susan's fate was something that fascinated me from the very first time I read CS Lewis._

_In this story the romance needed to be there as a way of showing that Tumnus had a reason for going to England and trying to help Susan. I do think that most readers would understand the presence of it in this piece. The comments were not said to attack one person or a group of people. I simply wanted the readers to know, understand, and be prepared for the 'romantical' elements when they were presented._

_With that said, the romance has ended for the time being (at least until the reunion happens, which will come later). For now, however, you're going to have to settle on overdosing of drama and angst. Break out the handkerchiefs folks, because there's no turning back._

_Reviews are love! Edit: typo removed.  
_

**Chapter 27: Haunted by the Past**

Much to both of their surprise, Susan began to stir, her eyes wearily opening and she looked up to see that the doctor's kind eyes were now looking down at her.

Slowly, she backed away from him and looked around the room somewhat nervously. "What happened?"

"It would seem that you have started to remember that part of your past that you have been blocking away for a very long time," he said honestly. "Today, you must face your past, Susan. It is imperative for you to remember what happened, otherwise you will never sleep peacefully, and you will most certainly never heal from the traumas you are now enduring."

"What are you talking about?" Susan whispered before turning her head and looking at Rachel.

"I think he's talking about Aslan," Rachel said. "That's the name you have been crying out in your sleep. You've been doing it for months now."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Susan said as she shook her head, her voice now taking on an odd coldness.

"I think you do," Rachel said ignoring this mode of speech. She cast a sideways glance towards Thomas who simply nodded. Contrary to the matter-of-fact manner of response, she was surprised by how her voice sounded. Instead of dwelling on this, she inhaled and looked at Susan. "You were dreaming about someone called Aslan, you woke up screaming the name. For whatever reason, you have decided to block yourself completely from the memories of this individual."

"I have not done anything of the kind," she said indignantly.

"Yes you have," Rachel said.

At this moment, Thomas took the incentive and began to speak. "Susan, we want to help you, but in doing so, you must accept that all of your memories will be needed in order for us to help enable you find healing."

Susan looked at him. "Everything?"

"Yes, I know it will not be easy, you may find yourself angry or weeping about these memories, but you must try," he said. "You said you wanted to, now you are starting to. Many of the suppressed emotions have emerged in the form of dreams. Rachel and I can assure you that this is a safe place, and that whatever you wish to speak of, you may."

Susan closed her eyes. "What if the people at this hospital think I'm crazy?"

"They won't and they can't," Rachel said. "The only ones who will see any of this is Dr. Jenkins and me. Do you trust us?" Susan nodded warily and Rachel continued. "Well, there you go. The equipment that was here to monitor this room has been removed. Whatever happens now is going to lie entirely with you. Whether you heal or if you remain in this terrible depression could be catalyzed by what happens in the next half hour. This is your moment of truth."

Thomas nodded and extended his hands towards Rachel. "Don't you think it is now time for Susan to see the drawings?"

Rachel nodded and extended the sketch of the lion to him. "Then let's get started," she said softly as he turned the sketch around so that it would be right side up and gave it to Susan.

"What can you tell us about this picture?" He asked all the while trying to keep his voice steady.

Susan glanced down at the object that now rested in her hands. As she studied it, her eyes widened. No words emerged for several minutes, but she kept her gaze locked on it. After several moments of silence passed between the three of them, Susan dropped the sketch onto her lap and bit down on her lower lip. "I don't know what this is about."

"Who is that?" Rachel pressed.

"It's a drawing of a lion, and you already know that I'm terrified of lions," Susan said haughtily.

"Who is it?" Thomas asked.

"It's nobody," Susan persisted. "I don't know who it could be." This time, her voice emerged as that of a stranger, it was as though Susan's royal persona had somehow etched its way into her voice and Rachel's eyebrows arched upon hearing it.

"Did you ever learn to speak Turkish?" Rachel asked. "The reason I ask is because I was told some time ago that the word 'aslan' is actually 'lion' in Turkish. Maybe you took some classes in it and forgot. It could explain why you are using that word and are demonstrating a fear of lions."

"Why would I ever decide to learn Turkish?" Susan asked. "I probably will never travel to Turkey. My life is resigned to living here as a prisoner and considered to be a psychopath."

Thomas looked at Susan. "Perhaps the question is not about whether or not you want to go to Turkey, but what your feelings about lions are. We do know that you're afraid of them, but the question as to why that is so remains."

Susan shook her head. "I don't know."

"Well, you have had dreams about lions, in fact the one dream you told me about involved a lion," he said. "Tell me again how you really feel about them?"

"They scare me," Susan said. "But that has nothing to do with anything. I know of people who are afraid of spiders and they aren't locked up in a mental institution for it."

"True," Rachel said. "But if it means anything to you, I'm scared to death of spiders. Actually, most insects frighten me to some extent. There's nothing abnormal about admitting that you're afraid of something. It actually is impacted by how you react to that fear."

"I had this dream about a lion who spoke to me, and he called me by my name and I couldn't understand why. Most people would say that lions can't speak, that they are wild animals who are illogical."

"Why would that be the case?"

"How many animals do you know of who can speak?" Susan asked.

Thomas smiled ironically but said nothing. Instead he extended his hand to Rachel in order to retrieve a second picture.

She obliged as the drawing of the lamppost was handed to him. Once he held it, he slipped it into Susan's hand, the drawing now covering the other sketch. "Take a look at this and tell us what comes to mind."

"I thought we were going to do all of this outside," Susan said trying to distract them.

"I know what we talked about," Thomas said simply. "But given the fact that you have been somewhat upset about your dreams, I felt that it would not be prudent to do that there. Just trust me, you can speak more freely here than there anyway."

Susan nodded as she looked down at the drawing for some moments. "What is this?" After several minutes, her eyes closed as though in a trance.

"Tell us about the drawing Susan, do you recognize it?" Thomas asked.

"It's a lamppost, it looks rather old as though it came from the last century," she began but as she spoke, her face took on a faraway look, her eyes beginning to shine. "I remember that it was in the middle of a wood. It was covered with roots as though it had been planted in the earth and had grown as a tree would. I do not know if this makes sense, but that's what it appeared to be."

"What else do you remember about it?" He asked.

She blinked a few times and then closed her eyes, her expression altering to that of apt contemplation. "I remember when I was a young girl, I had found my way into this place with Peter, Lucy, and Edmund. I cannot remember very much about it. I suppose when I got older, I began to think that perhaps it had been a figment of my imagination. It was rather like the imagery in poetry; the lamppost in the middle of the wood with various paths that one could journey down." She shook her head. "Strange how they all seem so easy and defined, but they really aren't, are they."

"No, I don't think they are. But, perhaps it was that way for many people," Rachel offered honestly.

"Yes, perhaps, but I was just thinking aloud," Susan said as she opened her eyes and took a deep breath. "Actually, what really comes to mind was that there was snow on the ground and icicles hanging from the tree branches. It was in the dead of winter, and felt so bitterly cold. It seemed embodied in that horrible feeling that one has right after Christmas ends and the new year begins. Sometimes it is during that time of the year that I am the saddest."

She paused and taking a deep breath, continued. "I was handed a fur coat and once I put it on, I suddenly felt as though I was swallowed up in it. My brothers, sister and I stood beneath this lamppost for the longest time staring up at it. Somehow, I felt entranced by the light that was glowing from it. It was as though the fire had been burning for many years, but yet there was not a soul around; no lamp lighter. It was a strange sort of light, the gushing of the flames loud, but perhaps it was because the forest was so quiet. Later, I thought about how this lamppost seemed rather out of place."

"What else do you remember about it?"

"Nothing," she whispered.

"Give me another picture, Rachel," Thomas instructed.

Rachel nodded as she began to flip through the pictures. After some moments, she extended one to him. "For some reason, I think this one should be next," she said as she handed it to him.

By this time, however, Susan was still sitting and staring at the lamppost sketch, her eyes filled with wonder. "It feels like something out of a dream," she whispered under her breath as she brushed her hand over the drawing.

"Try this one, what do you remember about these animals?" He asked.

Susan looked at the drawing and then raised her head. "I remember that t-they spoke."

"What did they say?" Thomas asked.

"I don't remember…no wait, yes I do…Peter, my older brother, had approached one of them with his hand extended. He was making clicking sounds with his mouth as though wanting it to come closer. It looked rather foolish, but he seemed to think that this would encourage a small animal to venture closer to four strangers. When it finally did, the creature began to speak as it motioned towards Peter's hand. It said something like: 'I don't know what this is all about, but I'm not going to sniff it'."

"He said this?" Thomas asked.

"Something like it, yes, but I don't know how he could have. I kept saying, 'he's a beaver, he shouldn't be saying anything', but he was really speaking and I could understand his every word as though he had the mind of a man. No logic in the world could have simply explained away what had happened. This creature later turned out to be a friend and he and his wife helped us."

"Do you remember anything else that he or his wife might have mentioned to you?" Thomas asked, his thoughts immediately turning to the two brave Narnians. He had known them for many a season and could only imagine what Mr. Beaver would have said. I will spend many a day with them when I get home, he vowed all the while waiting for Susan to respond.

"Well, they called me a 'queen'," she shook her head. "Me, royalty, that's such a joke. Later, I was telling my brothers and sister that they should forget about it because it was fictional, and had been nothing more than a game. But if it was then why am I remembering all of this now?"

"Perhaps because it is time for you to do so," Thomas said. "What else can you tell me about the beavers?"

"They were nice," she said. "We sat in their burrow right after we arrived eating fish and chips and then we started talking about…" Her voice trailed as Thomas took the pictures gently out of her hands and began to flip through them. Once he found the one with the lion's likeness on it, he held it up.

"…About him, perhaps?" He asked.

Susan shook her head. "I-I don't know," she whispered as she turned away from the drawing in the hopes that he would not see that recognition had suddenly crossed her face.

Thomas took a deep breath. "You do remember, I can tell," he began. "Please, don't do this to yourself, Susan. I want you to look at this picture and tell me who this is. What is his name?"

"It's just a lion," she whispered. "Lions don't generally have names."

"This one does," Thomas insisted. "He has a name, tell me what it is." As he spoke, his voice became unusually soft. "He's the key to your fears, Susan. If you remember him, then you will better understand the things that make you afraid. You're not having nightmares about lampposts or beavers, you're having reoccurring dreams about him. Now tell me his name."

"Please don't make me do this," she whispered.

"You have to," Rachel said.

"We both know that you want to remember and that you're afraid. We've been easy on you because we understand, but now you must go through with it," he said. "I am aware of your fears better than you may think. Now, in order for you to finally leave this place once and for all, you have to go through with this. If you do not then you will never really be free from your past. I don't want to hurt you by forcing the issue, but you're hurting yourself. This is a drawing of a lion and is an inanimate object. This picture cannot hurt you, but your memories can destroy you from the inside out. Now tell me once and for all, what does this lion represent to you?"

"Rejection," Susan whispered.


	29. Hide and Seek and Other Matters

_a/n: This chapter continues Susan's attempt to remember herself, but it also reflects back on the day when Aslan tells her and Peter that they will not ever come back to Narnia. Since CS Lewis did not really relate what happened in the book Prince Caspian during his dialogue with Peter and Susan, this is a depiction as to what I think could have happened. Seeing as Peter has always been enthusiastic about Narnia, I wanted to make their reactions to Aslan's words to be both different, Susan's suppressed, but that's getting ahead of myself._

_Again, my thanks to all of you for reading. This chapter is more or less background, but a necessary bit because Susan can't remember everything at once. As the story has been a gradual evolution of events, so too are Susan's memories somewhat gradual as well._

_I hope that you all enjoy this chapter, and please let me know what you think._

**Chapter 28: Hide and Seek and Other Matters**

"Rejection?" Rachel repeated the word that Susan had spoken only moments ago. This word seemed to hang like a pendulum in the empty air of the white and barren room.

"Rejection," Susan said as she backed slowly away from them and made her way over to the opposite side of the room. In this stance, she stood, her back now facing both of them, but the tears had started to leave a trail down her face. She rubbed her hands together before turning back around and facing them.

"I was thirteen-years-old, I was just a child back then, but he didn't see that. He only saw me as some silly grown up, so I continued to be that because it was what everyone else expected." Her words became louder. "It may seem strange to you, but he was the only one I ever wanted to see me for who I really was. People believe what they can see, but nobody ever believed that what I was doing was a façade, and that I could truly be an actor."

"An actor?" Thomas whispered.

"Of course, I could show you absolutely everything you ever wanted to see," she said as she turned and bowed to them as though a queen addressing the court. "You want to see a child, then I could skip and run or play hide and seek." As if to add emphasis to her words, she began to skip her way around the room, the pictures flying out of her hand and flying in different directions. Ignoring them, she jumped up onto the bed and began to jump up and down, her body several centimeters behind where Rachel and Thomas were now sitting. As her jumps became more sporadic, both of them could hear that her breathing was getting heavier. All of this reminded Rachel of the events at a teenager's slumber party.

As the bed shifted beneath their bodies, neither of them spoke or tried to stop what Susan was doing. They figured in time, she would run out of energy and stop. Several minutes passed and she did exactly as they had surmised. Abruptly, she jumped down off the bed and turned to face them, her stance suddenly changing and she was smiling at them in the very same manner an adult would use when regarding a child. Her words continued and it was as though her actions on the bed had never even happened.

"If you wanted to see a woman, grown and fawning over clothes and dance cards, then I could be that too." She began to parade around the room, her body upright, her expression confident. She fluffed her short hair and batted her eyelashes at Thomas as though he was a suitor coming to seek her hand. She extended her hand to him with the expectation of him taking it and kissing it chivalrously. He did as she indicated and for a split second neither of them were in a psychiatric hospital in London, but instead were in the court at Cair Paravel and 'Queen Susan the Gentle' had granted him audience.

She had often regarded him in this way, he recalled, her manner towards him at first friendly and kind, but soon, her attitude would change and she would see him as a subject, beneath her and insignificant. It was one of the things that made her seem all the more out of reach for him. Of course, he had once considered all of the Pevensies to be his friends, but there was almost a wall between himself and Susan. He had somehow forgotten that until this moment and now there was no way for him to deny it.

There was a distinctive parallel to Susan's behavior in both places. That familiar sensation washed over him like a cool spring rain shower and after several minutes, he could feel himself being drawn back to the present moment. As Susan's voice abruptly filtered through the room, he realized that Cair Paravel was a distant memory and he was indeed in Spare Oom.

"I could be anything," she continued, as though trying to convince both of them of her capabilities. They watched as she pulled her hand away and stopped moving about. Instead, she was leaning up against the far wall, her flat palms pressed up against it. "But, at one point, one decides to stop trying to be either and attempt to understand what they are."

"You became the act," Rachel said.

"It had all been an act, and it was something that everyone else pushed onto me. They viewed me as the girl who was trying to pretend that she was a woman. He may have known me relatively well, but he never could understand what was in my heart. When he told me that I could no longer be in his presence, my heart felt as though it had shattered. I asked him why, and he said that it was because I had grown up."

As these words emerged, she began to tremble and her body slowly began to slide down the wall. As she felt the cold, tiled floor cradling her body, she reached out and grasped one of the drawings that lay lazily on the ground. She brought it closer in order to look at it, but when she saw the image of the lion swimming before her eyes, she could feel the tears beginning to brim from beneath her eyes.

She stared down at the image.

**Susan's Flashback**

The Narnian sky overhead was blue, probably bluer than anything she had ever seen. She kept sneaking glances at it long before Aslan had come over to where she was standing and requested she and Peter come and speak with him. Obliging this request, she distanced herself from the happy sounds of the celebration with Lucy, Edmund, Caspian and their other friends.

When the sounds of their glee had faded, she and Peter found themselves at the top of a grassy hill. As she stared down at the meadow that blanketed the area, she began to wonder what it was Aslan wanted to speak to them about. She inhaled slowly, the perfumed air from the nearby flowers filling her nostrils. Eventually, she turned and looked at Aslan, his voice breaking them from their contemplations.

"There is something that I must tell you both before I send you back to your world," Aslan spoke, the lion's voice low.

"What is it, Aslan?" Peter asked.

"Are you not well?" Susan's voice emerged as she reached a hesitant hand out so that she could lightly touch the hair from his mane.

"I'm fine, Daughter of Eve," he began, his voice a soft hum as it filled each of their ears. "There exists something very significant that I must tell you both."

Peter smiled as he fingered his sword and Susan was left to conclude that her brother figured that they would be sent on another task before being sent home. She could almost see the expectant look in his eyes and this seemed to catch on to her, and a smile of anticipation soon shadowed her own face.

"It is not a battle, Sir Peter," Aslan began using the title he had bestowed upon him when Maugrim had been slain. "This is to inform you both that when you return to your home that it will mark the end of your adventures in Narnia."

"I beg your pardon?" Peter asked as his hand slipped from the sword and Susan felt herself growing faint and so she leaned up against a tree for stability.

"This will be your last visit to Narnia," Aslan repeated and Susan closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at him. The expression that shadowed her face was depictive of someone hearing that their best friend had died. She regarded him with disbelief, all the while wanting to say something, but instead, the question she wanted to ask emerged from her brother.

"We can never come back?" Peter asked, the High King's voice filled with traces of sadness.

"No," Aslan said simply.

"Why not?" Peter asked, his voice bordering on a demand.

"You are both growing up. You are becoming adults and soon your fancy of Narnia will die," he said.

"No it won't, Aslan, I swore the first moment I raised this sword that I would be a loyal subject to you," Peter said as he once more reached for his sword. He stopped when Aslan's voice filled the area.

"I am aware of that, Son of Adam, but you must learn to live your life not in service, but in reflection. You are ready to move on, you both are. Perhaps it is not an easy task to walk away from a moment that has captured your heart, but it is time for you to move forward and not turn back."

Susan bit down on her lip, no words emerging. Peter was now nodding his head as though he fully understood what had just transpired and what the lion had said. Instead of looking over at her, he kept his gaze on Aslan. "I swear my undying loyalty to you, my King," he said, his voice etched in sincerity. "I will not forget you." As these words emerged, he could not see the flash of anger that crossed the face of his younger sister.

The truth was, if Susan did not feel so confused and miserable at hearing those words already, then she probably would have slugged her brother right then and there. Did Peter not realize what his words had meant? She asked herself, the pain cursing through her body as though a dagger through the heart.

Peter, she wanted to scream, but her words emerged as nothing more than heartbreaking thoughts. We are being rejected and cast out of Narnia because of our age. You are swearing loyalty to the one who has tossed you out like a pair of old shoes that no longer serve any purpose. How can you act as though you accept this? Have you gone completely mad?

Instead of thrashing out at her brother, however, she remained silent.

Aslan seemed to have noticed this, turned his bushy head and looked at her, his words causing her to look over at him without raising her head. "Daughter of Eve?"

Not daring to say even a word, she bit down on her lip and nodded bravely. No words emerged, instead, a silent tear streamed from beneath one of her eyes, which she wiped it away with her, now trembling, hand.

If only he knew what his words had truly done to her, how they had destroyed something that dwelled in her spirit.

"Susan?" The lion spoke, thus causing her to release the hold on her lower lip as she raised her head and look at him.

"I was just recalling something is all," she said as her thoughts suddenly drifted and she provided no further information. Why should she say that the images that crossed her mind were from the early morning hours after she and Lucy had witnessed his sacrifice on the Stone Table? She had shed so many tears that morning, the grief had been greater than anything she had ever known. This moment seemed closely comparable to that one.

Gone was the sadness she carried about his death and in its place was the sorrow from what she knew she and Peter would be losing. How could he go and reject her now after everything that has happened? She asked herself, but she knew that there was no way she could ever say such words to him.

"Never again?" She eventually found her voice and spoke, the words creeping out from between her lips as she found herself unable to look the lion in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, Daughter of Eve, but you are now too old for Narnia," the lion said softly. "The fancies of this place will no longer serve you. It is now time for you to grow up."

'Grow up,' he had said and she could feel her face contorting, her expression filled with sadness. But I want you to see me as a child. I'm the very same as the child who cried against your mane when you were killed. I was one of the children who rode on your back and rejoiced in your resurrection. "Too old?" She eventually asked, her voice morose.

"You must not be sad about it, every Son of Adam or Daughter of Eve eventually does grow up and that means that they are no longer connected to Narnia as you have been," Aslan said matter-of-factly.

"I don't agree with that summation at all," Peter said bravely. "Yet, we do understand and trust you, Aslan. Don't we Su?"

Susan shook her head, but before the lion could say a word to her, she had started to walk away from them, her eyes downcast. No one could take away the lost and rejected feelings she carried, not even Peter's whose voice seemed to dance in the air as he called out to her. "Susan, I know this is hard for you, it's hard for me too, but Aslan knows what he's doing."

You can try to convince everyone else of that, but not me, she thought bitterly, the words of the lion more than clear. It was bound to happen, she would come to believe in the years to come. We no longer belong here.

Neither Aslan nor Peter knew these thoughts, instead, they stood and stared after her.

She walked several meters and stood, her eyes staring down at the ground. "What I feared the most has happened," she whispered as she rounded a corner.

When she turned back around, she could see that no one was following. Stopping, she found herself falling to her knees and beginning to weep bitterly.

**Flashback End**

As the memories flooded over her she raised her head. "H-his name…" her voice trailed as the grief overwhelmed her and she felt the agonized tears stinging her eyes. With her hands still resting against her legs she allowed her weight to hunch over, her face now resting in her lap.

Without speaking, Rachel and Thomas remained where they were seated. They watched as she raised her head and began to speak, her words now filling the silence that had literally blanketed the room.

"My mother used to always tell me to 'grow up…to just grow up.' She insisted that I was needed to be a good girl and to take care of my little brother and sister. The stories of 'Peter Pan and Never-land were ultimately over. It was time for me to take my role as the woman of the house whenever Mum was not present. 'I need you to be a grown up during the war and help me,' she had once said quite sternly to me. This came about more often than not. After Papy had gone away to war, she no longer saw me as a child. I had become her replacement of sorts. That same year, my brothers, sister and I were sent to some place out in the country to wait out the war. While there, I seemed to constantly recall how my brother kept accusing me of trying to act grown up and logical like Mum. He never asked me why I did it, he just accused me of being too much like an adult in the face of danger. By this time, I was in too deep and somehow knew beyond any doubt that it was too late for me. I never told anyone about being forced into this role, instead, I just allowed it to tear me apart from the inside out."

Susan bit down on her lip, the words stopping for a moment. When she finally found her voice again, she discovered that it was cracking. "I really did not want to be the grown up, I wanted to be a child like them, to play games and laugh like I'd never laughed before. Now, this wish has died in me."

"What changed for you Susan?" Thomas asked softly. He slowly got to his feet and hobbled his way over to her. As he reached the wall, he pressed his hand against it, and used it as leverage so he could he could lower himself onto the floor and be seated next to her.

Once had had managed to make himself comfortable, he extended his hand and rested it on her shoulder. "Tell me what changed," he repeated the request.


	30. The Death of a Dream

_a/n: This story is reaching a point where it is starting to write itself. This sort of makes me sad because the overall idea is reaching an end and soon this project will be done. There are still a number of things that must still be written once I complete this part, but I think that the story itself will, in the coming chapters, see an end._

_I want to thank everyone for reading, and I hope that you enjoy this latest installment. I do have a few ideas kicking around for a sequel of sorts, but I am not sure how much more I can write on this particular topic without the idea going bland. Whether a sequel idea is persued remains to be seen. Chances are, I will most likely follow another idea entirely. I won't say what that is, but I will say that I'm far from being done with writing._

_With that said, I shall warn you to grab your tissues because you may need them. I cried writing this part, it's a double dosage of emotion and quadroupled on angst. Enjoy, and as always, all reviews are very much appreciated._

* * *

**Chapter 29: The Death of a Dream**

Susan looked into the soft eyes of the doctor. At that moment, she could see something almost familiar in his gaze. There was a spark in them that somehow reminded her of the first day they had met. The vision of an umbrella and parcels flashed through her mind, but as quickly as they came, they vanished.

"I don't know what changed, maybe nothing really. I never felt accepted, perhaps that was the problem," she closed her eyes. "Dr. Jenkins, I'm starting to remember this place for some reason and it scares me."

"The place you were sent to during the war?" Thomas asked.

"No, it was some place entirely different, but I never told anyone else about it," she shook her head, all the while trying to keep her voice steady. "I guess because it was too hard for me to talk about it. It was like being in another world, everything was different, even my relationship with my brothers and sister had changed somehow."

"How so?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know, I am starting to remember small aspects of my time there. I remember this one day when Lucy and I were standing along the river bank. For whatever reason, we had been talking about dresses and Mum. Lucy said that I looked rather like Mum in the dress that I was wearing. At the time, it seemed rather a nice compliment, but then something inside reminded me later that it was not. She told me that we ought to take some of these clothes back to Mum and that they would make her very happy. I wanted to believe her, but my next words emerged as though I wasn't sure if we would ever get back." She looked at Thomas. "I wanted to lighten the mood, but instead, I must have really scared her. Realizing this I quickly apologized and added something like: 'We've been having a lot of fun here.' It was true, at least for me, it felt rather like we had been on holiday. I didn't forget the danger, but it seemed less important than to admit that I had often been scared to death." She paused as an involuntary shudder cursed through her body.

"Without warning, Lucy looked at me, and made some remark about how things used to be fun before I became so boring. I laughed, it was a hollow feeling sort of laugh, and I began to splash her with this freezing cold water. The thaw had come, but it was still dreadfully cold. Deep down inside, I related to it because I felt so cold and distant inside as well." She swallowed. "I truly hated how Lucy had said that and I could not stop myself from feeling a sort of loathing towards her for it. I would never have said those words to her face, but she was partially responsible for destroying my childhood." As these words emerged, she shook her head, the guilt overwhelming. "I truly hate myself for feeling this way about her, but I can't help it.

"I pretended for a very long time that it had been a joke, but it wasn't. I felt so hurt and everything had become hard for me. I was trying to be an older sister after having been programmed for so long to be a surrogate mum." She lowered her head as the tears spilled down over her cheeks. "Later, after everything was all over, all we seemed to do was have rows with one other about this place. Every time it was mentioned I could feel the hurt from rejection filling me and soon after that, I discovered that I had become the outcast from within my own family. My brothers would egg on these games, even Peter seemed to not care that we had both been ousted. I didn't want them to be real because then I would know what they essentially represented for me." As she spoke, she tightened her grip on the edges of paper with the lion's likeness drawn on it. "I was rejected, and yet I still loved him."

Thomas was staring at Susan as her words stopped. He could see the exhaustion that shadowed her eyes, but he knew internally that he could not stop pressing her. "You loved him?" He asked.

"Not romantically, I revered him, he was the king. I tried to convince myself that he was good and kind, but I could not forget that he rejected me," Susan said brokenly. "I remember w-when he was k-killed, Lucy and I concealed ourselves in some underbrush and watched. I wanted to run towards the ones who were doing it and beg them to stop. This woman, this witch…" As she spoke, the image of Delores Davenport flashed through Susan's mind and she shook her head violently. "…S-she was standing above him with a dagger in her hand and she…"

Rachel looked at Thomas who sat stoically next to Susan. "You have to tell her who you are now," she whispered, her voice unheard by Susan. "She needs to know."

Thomas nodded, but before he could begin to speak, Susan's words continued and he could only listen as her agony emerged.

"…She killed him. Then she screamed 'the great Fool, the great Cat, lies dead!' I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs 'Stop it! For God's sake, please just stop,' but I couldn't utter a sound. Lucy was wrapped in my arms, she was trembling and I could feel not only her grief overwhelming me, but my own as well. I sat staring at this gruesome image and could not do anything about it. He was dead and I could never forgive myself for having watched and done nothing."

"What happened next?" Thomas asked, his own voice now cracking. He reached over and rested his hand gently against one side of her face, thus causing her to raise her head, all the while, her eyes were locked on the picture that rested in her hands.

"I felt so sick," she whispered. "I couldn't do anything, I closed my eyes as the jeers and the laugher in the distance grew louder and louder. Lucy was crying as though tomorrow would never come, her face was wet with tears. We stood staring down at him some hours later, and I could do nothing but put my arm around him and bury my face in his mane. I cried that night, not just for him, but for myself. It became so clear to me what sacrifice really meant. I didn't give my life for another in the physical sense, but I did because I was more worried about her than I was about myself."

"She knew that, Susan," Rachel said as she stood up. "She told me when we were in school that she knew of your worries. She talked about this place you visited and about the sacrifices that were made for your brother, but she also realized that you had made a number of them for her. She described everything that happened that night and just hearing about it made my blood run cold."

For his part, Thomas was looking down at Susan as she spoke. At the same time, he was waiting for her to continue outlining this dreadful series of events. Unlike Lucy's description, there existed an uncanny sense of finality in the manner in which Susan was sharing these events. Did she not remember that Aslan had been resurrected by the deeper magic of Narnia? Instead of raising this question, he simply waited for her to respond to Rachel's statement.

"I didn't know that," Susan said.

"It's true, she always cared for you, and she knew that things weren't easy for you. She tried to understand, but it was not always easy. She often felt as though you had ceased to care for her," Rachel said. "She told me once that she never saw you as a mother of sorts, you were always her sister, and she was so grateful to you for being there with her during that horrible night."

Susan lips began to tremble and she shook her head. "I didn't know," she repeated as she lowered her gaze and could feel the tears as they streamed down over her face. "It's like there exists a hole in my memory. He was dead, and yet I still remembered talking to him and being told that I could never come back. For so long I couldn't remember if he was alive or still dead and sprawled out across that cold table." She lowered her head. "All I remember is the sacrifice."

"You don't remember that there was a dawn after this darkness?" Rachel asked.

"No," Susan cried. "I don't. Oh God, I don't remember. The memories are swimming in my head. Some say he's alive, some say he's dead…dead in my heart never to revive. I'm so scared that if I even begin to hope that he could remember or care for me." She lowered her head, her hands covering her face, the pencil markings from the sketch now leaving gray colored blotches on her skin.

"If he could see you now, he would care, I just know it," Rachel said. "He'd have to have a heart of stone not to see how much you care for him."

Susan shook her head. "Maybe he's just angry with me because I did nothing when he was killed and this is his revenge against me. My life, my torn apart and despised life, is now filled with damnation and sorrow. Is this his revenge against me?"

"He wouldn't do that to you, Susan," Thomas whispered, his voice etched with disbelief, but also cracking with emotion. "He'd never hold anything you did or felt against you."

"Would you?" Susan asked as she raised her head and regarded him. A tear slid down over her cheek as she spoke, the words filled with self-recrimination. "If I didn't live up to what you expected, would you stop caring?" She asked. "Would you turn away from me or hate me and never want anything to do with me?"

"No, I wouldn't," Thomas said. "Not ever."

"You're not just saying that, are you?" She asked, and deep in the recesses of her question, Thomas could see the insecure child dwelling in her.

"No," he said with an adamant shake of his head.

Susan wiped her face, her cheeks now red and puffy, but she tried to swallow back her first emotional outburst. "For the first time since the war started, my family finally had a reason to feel excited and happy. They could talk about this place, about Narnia, and it would feel as though nothing was happening outside in the real world. The stories could be told again and again, the emphasis on our favorite bits. Yet, whenever they were relived, I felt pain; it hurt so much. I suddenly realized that I didn't want to be a part of it anymore. Lucy had become the center of everyone's attention. She was the one everyone admired and loved. She was this sort of idolized queen who always kept her faith and shared her optimism with the rest of the world. I wanted so much to be like her, but I couldn't, because I was forced to be something that I wasn't."

"Is it not possible that you were loved and revered as well?" Thomas asked.

Susan shook her head. "No. Dr. Jenkins, when I was in school, everyone else said that I was admired and loved, but it was all superficial and foolish. There was no substance to that admiration. In this place, I seemed to have taken on the role of being 'Lucy the Valiant's older sister'. Their reverence to her was genuine, it was real, whereas mine was on the surface. Sure the boys I met admired, loved, and wanted to please me, but the meanings behind this behavior was shallow and without any meaning. I wanted people to see me for who I was, but they did not. I wished that perhaps the lion might have seen it, but then he came and told me that I was too old to be accepted in Narnia. I figured that he meant that I was not important enough anymore. It was too late for me to change from what I had become." She took a deep and staggering breath before she found the courage to continue.

"When I got home, the only thing I could really do was to try and forget about it. At least in doing that, I no longer could be hurt by my memories of it. In the back of my mind, I knew beyond any doubt that I had become an outcast in both places."

"What about Peter, did he not hear these very same words you did?" Thomas asked.

"Maybe, but for him it was different. There's a certain pride that comes when a boy becomes a man. Peter always looked up to Papy, and through him he had been inspired to follow in the footsteps of Nigel Pevensie. Becoming a man was like a dream come true for him."

"Is that what Peter told you?" Thomas asked.

"Not really, it's what I began to see in him. Soon after the adventures had ended for us, we spoke of it, but only briefly. We had only talked about it for a few moments, but it gave me enough information to reach my own conclusions. I remember how we were waiting for the train that would take us back to school. Peter and Edmund were leaving for one and Lucy and I were being sent to another, thus our contact with one another would ultimately be cut..."

**Susan's Flashback: London September, 1943**

The early autumn sunlight shone down on the small London suburban train station. The place was empty except for the four Pevensies who were waiting for two separate trains that would once more whisk them away from the city. Helen was nowhere to be seen and Nigel was still off at war. Susan had been given the task of making sure everyone was seen off, but at this moment, she sat alone waiting.

The dangers of living in the city were still present and by going away to school, the grown ups assumed that this was a means to protect their children.

Susan's gaze was presently on the luggage, her blank stare taking in the specifics of the four tattered suitcases that were placed on the cemented ground. Peter, Edmund, and Lucy had left briefly in search of some sweeties for the trip.

After a time, Peter had returned alone and approached the bench, a tree branch in his hand and tapping it against the ground. Upon hearing him, she raised her head to see that he was gripping it in the same manner as one might hold a sword. He was swishing it about as though fighting against an imaginary fiend.

"Would you please stop this childishness; Peter?" Susan asked, her voice filled with edginess. "People are staring."

"There's nobody staring, unless you count the suitcases, and I'm sure they won't tell anyone that I sometimes play pretend. Besides, we're on this platform alone, Su, there's no one else around," he said as he continued these actions. He dodged a few imaginary jabs, and inched his way over until he had bumped into her and she raised her head in annoyance.

"Then do as you like, I shall take my things and go sit on the other bench," she said with obvious agitation. She reached for her belongings and started to gather them together.

"Why are you so upset, it's just a game," he said snappishly.

Susan lowered her head not wanting to disclose the truth. Aslan's words still haunted her, the cadence of them still ringing in her ears. Of course, she had been relatively successful at blocking this out, but it was still too soon after the adventures had ended. She could not forget and figured that she would never forget. She was inconsolable when it came to the lion's words, but at the same time, she fought the urge to cry with an almost grown up resolve.

"Su, is everything OK?" Peter eventually asked. He lowered the makeshift sword, and sat back down on the bench next to her. This caused her to stop what she was doing and eventually she turned and looked at him.

"Why wouldn't it be?" She responded to his question with one of her own.

"Well, you seemed rather upset when Ed and Lu told us about their last trip into Narnia with Eustace," Peter offered freely. "I won't even mention how they were all three able to outline every last detail of the trip. I thought the whole thing sounded bloody brilliant. I wish we could have been there, too."

Susan raised her head. "Why should I care about these childish games?"

"Well, before, when you were Queen of Narnia, they were not considered 'childish games'. They were as real as London and you had enjoyed yourself every bit as much as we did. Whether you believe it or not, it has somehow become a part of all of us," Peter said.

"It's not a part of me anymore, Peter, it's just a figment of our imaginations, but it won't die in you because you find so much meaning in it. Yet it has already died in me. Why can't you just leave it be and accept the fact that it's over?"

"Because we have a choice here, Su. We can either remember Narnia fondly, or we can shut it out of our minds for good. I know that you seem not very willing to keep the memories of it alive in your heart. Yet that doesn't mean that the rest of us want to journey down the very same path as you did."

"I don't want to talk about Narnia anymore, I think it would be best if we just forget about it," she said stubbornly. "I have to get on with my life, and perhaps you and the others would be wise to do so as well."

"You can't just block this out, Su, there's too many wonderful things that happened to us and you know it. We became a family again, we learned to work together as a team. If we were to just block it out and pretend that it didn't exist, then perhaps we will never realize why it is we were there in the first place. I mean, we spent close to 13 years in Narnia as rulers. We were good rulers; we worked together as a family, and we found our way back to one another through the experience. Do you remember when we went to the professor's and how everything had fallen to bits between us? Lu was acting like a crybaby, and Ed was getting into all sorts of trouble. You were trying to play Mum, and I…"

"…You were being a bossy ass," Susan interrupted, her anger overwhelming her.

"Yes, perhaps I was, but do you see what I'm trying to say here?" He asked. "Narnia gave us the distinct opportunity to become a family again and not to lose sight of each other. You can't deny what it did for us, Su. I think that's what Aslan meant when we were all called into Narnia in the first place."

"Perhaps, but then he said that we could never return," Susan said as she stood up. "It is more than obvious that you did not interpret these words in the very same way I did."

"Obviously I did not, but you cannot expect the rest of us to behave as though Narnia did not happen. Just because you were hurt by something based on how you interpreted it does not mean that the rest of us should do so as well," Peter said as Lucy and Edmund returned.

Wordlessly, she sat back down and waited for the train. At that moment and from the depths of her heart, she hoped that this would be the last time she ever broached the subject of Narnia with her elder brother.

She watched as he got up and began to sway the tree branch around once again. He was becoming a man, she thought sadly, and this sword seemed to signify it.

**Susan's Flashback End**

Her head was lowered as the next words barely audibly emerged. "…The lion's name was Aslan and from the bottom of my heart, I hate him…"

"Why?" Thomas asked.

"Because…I just do!" Susan shouted as she reached out and grabbed the sketch of the lion from Thomas' hands and began to hastily rip it apart. "For one thing, he hated me…" she cried again and again as she began to wad the picture pieces up in her hands. As she did this, her words continued to emerge. "He hated me…"


	31. Dawn Breaking Through

_Before this gets posted I want to address an issue about this chapter that is touched upon. There is a great deal of psychology intertwined with spiritual ideology in my writing. I will not discuss the accuracies versus the inaccuracies of the perception of death, as depicted here. We all have beliefs about it, and this is just one writer's conveyance of said ideas, since part of Susan's problem is facing the death of her family. I cannot just touch on it as an insignificant part or story aspect, it is the catalyst to her entire situation._

_Narnia was considered during 'The Last Battle' to be a sort of alternate reality (or Heaven, if you will). In relation to Susan's grief, I have found myself having to add some ideas about what could happen when someone dies. I do take a very optimistic stance on this topic, which does parallel the one CS Lewis took in writing the last words of the Chronicles._

_These thoughts and ideas are expressed through Tumnus, as opposed to Aslan because there is a part of him (because of his imperfections) that make him easier for Susan to relate to. He is also, for all practical purposes, something of an academic. That is conveyed in 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe' when Lucy first comes into his cave and sees the books on the shelves. He is not entirely a character who doesn't know what is going on, I think he does has an idea, and possesses the ability to convey these ideas to others. Now, this isn't just me trying to put my thoughts into his mouth, but seeing as this is a very difficult topic to write about, I would hope that you will allow me a few creative liberties in that regard._

_With that said, I give you chapter 30._

_A little foreshadowing...Tumnus' revelation to Susan is coming up, stay tuned. Please read and review._

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**Chapter 30: Dawn Breaking Through**

Thomas sat as still as a statue as the pieces of paper slid from Susan's hands. He watched the tears as they slid down over her face, the outburst somehow making her withdraw further and further into herself. He could only conclude that she did not hate Aslan at all, but instead she loved him.

Eventually, he looked at her and expressed those thoughts in the form of a question. "You do not hate him, do you?"

Susan shook her head and picked at the slips of paper that lay scattered across the floor. "I remember when he died, and then I could somehow recall the moment he told me that I couldn't come back. There is a lapse of time between those two events and I just don't remember," she whispered. "Now, nothing about Narnia makes any sense to me."

Thomas turned to face her, his hands suddenly reaching out and gently holding her shoulders as his next words emerged. "Susan, Aslan didn't just die and remain dead, he was restored to life and to this day, he remains alive and well."

"How do you know?" She asked. "How could you possibly know?"

"I know because I know his story. Everyone who holds even a small awareness of Narnia knows this. It is one such event that is engraved in our memories and it is the very same as that which you just related. I know that it happened many, many years ago, back before the Golden Age of Narnia. It was when the land was in the midst of a hundred years of winter. The story you told was very true, and no one would deny it. Aslan was sacrificed at the Stone Table by the White Witch and he gave his life so that another could live."

"You mean my brother," Susan said softly. "Edmund."

"Yes," came the affirmative answer. "You and Lucy were there and witnessed his sacrifice."

"Not really, we had both closed our eyes, our faces buried against one another. Lucy had hers pressed against my chest, and mine was against her shoulder. Neither of us could even bear to raise our heads and look," she admitted sadly. "It was so horrible."

"Yet instead of running away from it, you spent the night by his side, loyal subjects to the true king of Narnia. You tried to loosen his binds and were crying over his body. Aslan knew before these events had happened that a deeper magic existed in Narnia, one that had never been tried or tested. It was simply carried out in good faith, and that was what ultimately restored him. His actions were done through a love that was so great and powerful that nothing, not even the most hateful and horrible creatures, could defeat it."

"But what about the voices I hear or the dreams that I've had?" Susan asked.

Thomas smiled weakly. "Your dreams are the manifestation of those events. They are, in fact, suppressed memories of what you recognize about him. Metaphorically speaking, they are comprised of the idea that you remember only half of the story. You have stopped in the middle without turning the page. In doing so, you have denied yourself the opportunity of discovering how the conflict was resolved. Susan, you were mistaken about Aslan on many counts. Your fear that he hated you is the biggest misconception of them all. You see, Aslan cannot hate, because it is simply not a part of him. His sacrifice showed the goodness that emanates him. It demonstrated his unselfish nature, as well as his awareness that good will always overcome evil. All this time, your perceptions of him have sadly been incomplete. In recognizing what truly happened, you will be able to release these demons and see the truth for what it really is. Now, tell me what you remember after his sacrifice."

"I don't remember, I just knew that logically dead things cannot come back to life," she whispered. As her words emerged, it did not occur to her that instead of pondering how he could possibly have known all these things, she was still trying to rationalize his arguments.

"I remember after his death, we stepped out from behind the underbrush. It was still dark and all the lights from the fires and torches had been doused. The entire area reeked of smoke…and death," she said as a shudder cursed through her. "Lucy raced over to the table where he lie and she was pulling some object from her pocket, it looked to be a small glass bottle. I couldn't tell what she was doing at first, but then I heard the sound of the cork being removed and somehow, knew her intentions. Then I looked at her and shook my head and spoke, my voice emerged cold and distant. It was as though I knew I was saying these words, but was denying what had happened. I simply said: 'It's too late, he's dead'. My heart felt as though it had shattered and there was this sort of melancholy that loomed in the air. My heart was beating loudly in my chest, and I realized at that moment that everything felt real, but it also felt final."

"It must have been terrible for you," he began. "Yet, you thought it marked the end of his life and that you would never get to see him again. The same feeling is what you seem to carry for your family. It is no wonder that you harbor so much pain and sadness when you stop and consider this," he paused. "I think it would be dreadful to believe that Aslan never overcame the events at the Stone Table, yet, the story does not end at that moment, instead the page turns and reveals a brand new chapter, a new beginning, if you will."

Susan shook her head and looked at him. "After I fell asleep against his dead body, I don't remember anything else that happened," she said softly. "It was the same when my family died, I received a telegram and then realized that I was alone. I was never able to cry for them, or to understand why this happened. Aslan may still be alive, but my family isn't, they're all dead, and nothing will resurrect them." As she spoke, she looked down at her lap.

"I know," Thomas said softly.

"The worst thing about it is that there is so much that I wanted to tell them, so much left unsaid. I was angry with them for treating me like an outsider, and yet I still loved them. Somehow I always knew that instead of being angry, I could have spent my time humoring them whenever they wanted to talk about Narnia. I didn't think about how they must have felt when I rejected it. It never really crossed my mind until they were no longer here. I have lived with the knowing that my own selfish pride has prevented me from remembering it as fondly as they did. I didn't know how to tell them that I was hurt by Aslan's words, and I figured that it was best to say nothing at all. There were so many moments when I could have told them how I felt, but I was so scared. I didn't want my words to tarnish the perfect world they remembered."

"You were trying to be strong," Rachel said. "It was wartime, everyone was kind of going crazy and needed something to divert their focus. There were bombs being dropped from the sky and people were telling their children to be brave and to grow up. Do you think that you were the only girl who was told this sort of drivel? I know of so many girls who were instructed to grow up before their time. By the time the war had ended, they had become motivated solely by their logic. How could you have talked about Narnia having had that mentality forced upon you? The problem is, Aslan never knew of this, or if he did, he had somehow managed to distance himself from its outcome."

"I think perhaps he did know," Thomas said softly. "He's been watching all of this unfold since the train accident happened. He must have been aware of what was happening here. I could not imagine otherwise."

"It doesn't matter anymore, they're all dead," Susan said helplessly as she wiped the tears from her cheek with the flat palm of her hand. "It over."

"No, Susan," Thomas whispered. "When someone you love dies, there is a dawn, which breaks through and the misery of the passing night shatters it in very much the way a stone table cracks down the middle. Aslan did not die only to be remembered for his death and your family did not either."

"Then why?" Susan asked, the sound of her voice resonating throughout the room. "Why did they have to go?"

"I don't know, but like with Aslan's sacrifice, it was shown that death is not the end, instead it is the beginning of something new," he began. "Susan, this isn't about internal beliefs, this is about accepting that your family did not die because of how you perceived Narnia. They were in a train accident and perhaps they were going off somewhere to discuss Narnia, but that act of doing that alone was not the cause of their passing." He reached over and brushed a lock of her hair from her face. "You have remembered the shadows that have centered around both Aslan and your family, but these memories are the embodiments of incomplete and untold stories. They are filled with the grief and sadness that has encompassed your world and this left you in a darkened abyss. This image has altered what you are, or what you can become."

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"There exists another place, and when someone leaves one place, they journey to the other and their adventure continues. None of your family exist in a dreary, and lifeless plain of existence. The only one who is experiencing that is you. Their legacy has lived on, yet you sit here not caring if you are alive or dead. Spiritually you are dying, emotionally and mentally you are suffering, but physically you appear healthy, but are not. The pain you carry has denied you the opportunity to go on living. It is for that reason alone that you have been remembering Narnia. For all the pain this place has represented to you, it also symbolizes your ability to find closure with various events in your life. If you find your way back to that moment, then all your ailments will heal and you will be able to move on. What you need to recognize is that Narnia still lives in you. You have said that it has died, but it has not. The bond you hold to it is still there and is one of the most prolific ties that exist."

Susan lowered her head. "How do you know all of this?"

"It is part of what I must explain to you, but I felt that you needed to speak first," he said, a gentle smile now covering his haggard face.

She raised her head. "You said earlier that you had been to Narnia, but I don't think that's entirely true."

"You could say that," he said with a nod. "I was born in Narnia, Susan."

"So you know of Aslan?" She asked weakly.

"I know of him, yes, but I have also met him," he said smiling.

"He must really hate me for all the things I've done," she whispered. "Perhaps through all these dreams, he is punishing me for having done nothing when he was being killed. I could have tried to stop it."

"No you couldn't," he said softly. "Destiny had already outlined what must be and that could not have been altered, not by you or Lucy, or even an entire army."

"But I wanted to help him," she mumbled.

"I know you did, but do you know how you can help him?" She shook her head and he smiled before continuing. "You can overcome this, just like Aslan overcame death. You just turn it all around." He paused, his eyes still on the despondent young woman. "Let me ask you something. Do you honestly think that Aslan would hold anything against you for what happened the night of his sacrifice? He did not intend for you to get involved, dear girl. If you had been caught the night he was sacrificed, then you would have died as well, and your death would have served no purpose whatsoever."

He took a deep breath and continued, his voice soft, so soft that he wondered if Susan could even hear it. "If you were no longer alive, then the prophecy of Cair Paravel would never have been fulfilled and there would never would have been a Golden Age. That single act would have ensured immediate defeat for those who loved the good that emerged from Narnia."

"You speak of a prophecy, but what is it?" Rachel asked.

Thomas cleared his throat and spoke, his voice filling the room with the very same words that every Narnian had committed to memory. "The prophecy was a very old Narnian rhyme of sorts. It basically said that when two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve sit upon the thrones at Cair Paravel, the evil times will be over and gone. It would not only mark the end of the evil, it would mark the end of the life of Jadis, the White Witch."

Susan raised her head and looked at him all the while her hands beginning to tremble uncontrollably as she stared at him. "The only time I ever heard that was from the Beavers, did you know them?"

Thomas took a deep breath. "Yes, but I also know most of the rhymes that center on Narnian legends. My father brought me up with many lessons centering on the hope and faith of my people. He showed me that by reading books and learning, I would be able to understand and overcome the hardships that would ultimately come. As a result, I have years of study behind me and it was that gift that enabled me to come to this place. I spent a number of years learning your ways and walking among you as one of you."

"Who are you?" She whispered.

"Whether you believe it or not, I'm a friend. Susan, I know that my words frighten and confuse you and I regret that, but I do want nothing more than to help you. It is just as I said the first time we spoke here. Do you remember me saying that I wanted to help you get home?" He asked softly and once she nodded, he continued. "I have every intention of offering the answers you seek."

"When?" She asked.

"As soon as you answer one more question for me," he said softly. "I promise I will tell you, but I need this one last answer. Does that sound fair to you?"

"I-I suppose." Her words emerged in a stammer and she pondered why it was she was being so patient with him. She had recognized over the course of their dialogue that his face was looking more sunken in, his stance tired, and his eyes had lost their shine. She was beginning to feel scared for his well being, but this concern was not mentioned. Instead, she waited patiently for his question to emerge.

"Alright, the question I must ask is whether or not it is possible that Aslan's words could have been misinterpreted," he said.

"I don't know," she whispered honestly. "All I remember was standing on this hillside overlooking a beautiful valley. Aslan stood on one side of me and Peter was on the other. He had pulled us both aside with the intention of telling us that we had grown up and would not be able to return to Narnia. I wanted to cry, scream, or do something, but I couldn't, I guess I was too dazed to even find the right words. It felt as though I had been turned to stone when he said them. I could do nothing except stand there and listen as Peter tried to profess his undying loyalty."

Rubbing her face with her hands she shook her head. "He was speaking as an obedient servant would, but throughout the dialogue, I couldn't find the words to speak. When I finally was able to figure out what I wanted to say, I asked him if it was true and if we really would have to leave forever. He said 'yes'. After some time had passed, I simply couldn't take anymore and started to walk away. Every so often, I would turn back around see him still standing there and talking to Peter. I realized that I just wanted to pick up the largest and heaviest stone I could find and hurl it at him. I wanted to scream as loud as I could: 'I hate you!', but I couldn't even do that. I just stood there staring at him before rounding a corner and no longer being able to see them." She looked at him as she wrung her hands together. "Two years after our first visit to Narnia, Peter and I spoke of it for the last time. I was not just angry with Aslan, but I was upset that Peter had decided to speak on my behalf. No one else bothered to ask me what I wanted or how I felt, it was just assumed that when he spoke for all of us because he was the oldest."

"But he didn't," Rachel said.

"No, he didn't. The truth was, I had devoted so much love and devotion to Aslan, and felt as though that was being shunned somehow. I wanted to please him, to make him see me for who I was, but he just…" Her voice trailed. "He just…"

"…Dumped you like yesterday's rubbish?" Rachel asked, her blunt voice filling the room.

"Yes," Susan nodded. "That's what it felt like."

"Yet, you really think that he would hate you after all that you've been through," Rachel said, her voice filled with matter-of-fact undertones. Thomas turned and looked at her all the while taking note of the understanding that still lurked in her question.

"I couldn't measure up to be what he wanted," Susan said.

"What do you think he wanted?"

"I don't know, that's the trouble," she said brokenly. "I was trying in every way I could to please him, but I failed, and now he's probably forgotten all about me."

Thomas looked at her. "He neither hated nor forgot you, Susan."

She looked at him and intertwined in her gaze was a new sense of determination as she regarded the haggard state of the doctor. As she took in his appearance yet again, she could suddenly feel a strange energy cursing through her as she licked her lips and looked at him. "Now that I've answered your question, you can answer mine. Who are you?"


	32. Full Circle

_a/n: Of all the chapters I have written for this story, I think this is my absolute favorite. The flashback is almost a direct written 'version' of the movie as seen through Susan's eyes. Nothing is intended to infringe on the copyrights of the movie, and all general disclaimers apply. I don't add that bit to every chapter because it's pretty much implied on a general scale with regards to fan fiction._

_Another thing I have to add is that this flashback is from the extended version of the reunion scene, which is in essence, Tumnus coming back to life, seeing Lucy, and stammering her name with a hand resting against her face. In the DVD version of the scene, there's a cut made which basically deletes that 10-15 seconds of footage. It's quite a beautiful moment between these characters and one that I personally love. You can check it out at youtube._

_Finally, I want to say how happy I am that you are enjoying this story, I am receiving so many wonderful reviews and I'm thrilled that over 50 members have requested alerts for this story when updated. As a story that started out as a bit obscure, and me a writer who wasn't sure if I was even going to finish it, I am so happy that it's been so well received here. I've never felt much success as a fan fiction writer, until this story came along. So, my sincerest thanks to those of you who have read and reviewed these chapters._

_As far as this chapter is concerned, I would be positively elated if you would let me know what you think of it. Of all the chapters of this story that have gotten reviewed, this chapter is one I would just love to get reviewed on, because I am so happy about how it turned out. One sentence reviews are fine, so don't be shy._

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**Chapter 31: Full Circle**

Thomas opened his eyes and wearily looked at the young woman. "It will take me some time to explain," he said smiling weakly as he reached for her hand. As soon as he held it, he began to stroke the back of it gently. "I can tell you that a true friend, is one who is worth all the sacrifice and love that you can give. That person will never forget the gift that emerges from your heart. That is what dwells in you, and if Aslan were to have forgotten you, then how good of a friend or King is he really?"

"I never wanted to forget him," she whispered as she slowly reached over and touched the tie that bunched at his neck. It was the same one, the bright red one that he had been wearing the first day she had seen him in this place. "The truth is, every time I heard his name mentioned, I felt as though a dagger had been rammed through my heart. I felt so much pain and no matter how many wonderful things had happened, I couldn't stop the hurt." As she spoke, she fingered the tie and somehow felt a sense of comfort emanating from this simple action.

"When someone loves you, then they will never truly leave you, their love remains with you no matter where you are. You have lived believing that you have been forsaken by Aslan, but he never truly left you nor did he forsake you," he said. "A treasured and trusted friend will stand at the threshold and wait for the spell to break and the heartache to heal. Aslan has not forgotten you, he's been waiting for you all this time, Susan Pevensie." As he spoke, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket with his free hand and leaned over in order to wipe her face with it.

As he did this simple action, he continued to speak, his soft words filling the room. "Lucy has been waiting for you as well. She loves you, your brothers love you, the whole of Narnia loves you, Susan. There is so much love that originates from that place that it cannot be explained away with simple words and actions. I am a Narnian and I have chosen to leave my home and come to this place. I was sent here to find and assist you in your journey home. I don't mean that you will be able to come to Narnia forever, for you have a life to live here, and you must fulfill that before you return to stay."

"Aslan?" She whispered. "I-is he here?"

"No, but you do have an open opportunity to return one more time and find closure. Aslan has allowed this just as he has granted me the opportunity to come here," he said softly and smiled at her as he continued to wipe the moisture from her face with the small square piece of cloth.

Susan closed her eyes still unwilling to make eye contact with him. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she could remember a red scarf and handkerchief, but her memories remained hazy. For some reason, this connected to Lucy's recollection of a faun carrying parcels and an umbrella in the snowy wood.

"I don't know if I could dare to hope," she whispered as she raised her head and noticed that his warm blue eyes were still looking down at her.

After what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice matching the look in his eyes. "Susan, just look at me, try to remember that you've seen me before in another place…at another time."

"No, I don't remember," she whispered all the while shaking her head.

Thomas looked at Rachel. "Please retrieve the picture, you know which one I mean."

Rachel nodded and went over to the stack of pictures that lay on the desk. She began to flip through them all the while not fully knowing what he was going to do, but when she found the drawing with the faun's likeness, she nodded. This had to be the one he was referring to, she thought as she carefully picked it up and brought it to him.

He accepted it and placed the picture on his lap, the image now hidden against his folded legs. "Susan, the first time we met it was after I faced a very difficult challenge. Yet, there was something about me that was familiar to you and you called me by my name. You looked at me and there was a sense of relief in your eyes, as though you knew that we were destined to become friends."

"I don't know what you mean, the only time I remember meeting you was when you came into this room and started talking to me. You promised me that no one else here would hurt me and it was as though you had become a hero and was saving me from a wicked witch. When you looked at me, I didn't see a doctor, I s-saw a friend." As she spoke, she continued to touch the tie but his face was abruptly blurred by her tears. "I watched you and thought about how everything about you somehow felt familiar, even though I was seeing you for the first time."

"No, it wasn't the first time, Susan, you've seen me before," he said. "Try to remember, it was many years ago when you were still a child."

"I don't know what you mean," she whispered.

"Maybe this will help jog your memory," he said as he picked up the drawing and handed it to her. "Look at this picture and tell me who you see."

As she accepted the picture from him, she held it with both hands, her eyes staring down at the intricate drawing. She stared for several moments, the tears continuing to slide helplessly down her cheeks. She bit down on her lip as she stared at the image.

It was a faun, with floppy goat like ears, hooves, and legs bent in a strange manner. She stared at it for several moments, her eyes taking in every last detail. Yet, what stood out in her mind was the scarf, a hand sketched piece of wool that had been gently draped around the faun's neck. "It's Mister Tumnus…" Her voice trailed off as the words literally hung in the air. "Lucy's friend, the faun…"

She raised her head from it and could see that Thomas was looking at her, the red tie that had been wound around his shirt collar had been loosened and the two uneven ends now hung down over his chest, the brightness literally drawing her in.

The tears continued to fall, the saltiness of them stinging her eyes as she reached out and touched one of the loose ends. Her fingers began to tremble as she looked up at Thomas. "M-mister Tumnus…" she repeated the words, her voice cracking, but when she saw that he was nodding, she shook her head in denial. "It can't be…" she managed, but he reached over, took the picture away from her before grasping both of her hands and giving her the now moist handkerchief.

Without thinking, Susan looked down at the object that he had pressed into her hand. For several moments, time seemed to stand still as she stared at one corner of it and gasped when she spotted the embroidered L neatly etched into the thin piece of cloth. Releasing his other hand, she covered her mouth and inched her way up against the wall.

"Oh my God…"

**Susan's Flashback**

The darkness had given way to early dawn and in the morning sunlight, Susan and Lucy arrived at the White Witch's castle and after crawling down from Aslan's back, they began to wander through the castle grounds.

Aslan had disappeared, no doubt looking for survivals in the dungeons, Susan surmised as her sister started to run around the courtyard. At first, she thought that her sister was playing some sort of game, but the moment she saw Lucy's earnest face, she dismissed that idea entirely.

The back of Lucy's cape flapped in the breeze as she ran into the inner sanctum of the castle. The place looked very much like a large exhibition hall for a sculptor or artist. Pieces of rock in the form of living creatures were all around them, the snow now melting and leaving the statues dripping wet. The thaw had reached this dismal place, Susan thought as she followed her sister. Seconds later, she caught up only to lose sight of Lucy again.

This happened for some time, most of the stops only a split second as Lucy took in her surroundings and ran off yet again. During one of these brief stops, Susan brushed her hand up against the cold surface of one of the statues. She swallowed as her fingers detected a sort of cold and unfeeling emotion.

As she began to understand what all of this meant, she ran to catch up with Lucy all the while her thoughts were still on the trip that had brought them here. Now, her eyes were lost in the gray mass of stone that seemed to embody this place.

Not having slept the night before, she could somehow feel her tired legs running almost automatically, as though she had no control over them. The adrenaline alone seemed to be keeping the younger of the two sisters awake, but now Susan simply felt tired. Seconds later, Lucy had stopped for what seemed like the umpteenth time and stood staring as though she was waking from a trance.

"Lucy," she gasped as she eventually rounded a corner to see that her sister had stopped and was staring fixated at one of the statues. Susan watched her run towards it, a gasp of agony literally forcing itself from her.

As she came closer, she watched as Lucy began to weep softly, her tiny frame trembling with each heartbreaking sob. By this time, Susan had reached her sister's side and gently put her arm around her shoulders. Leaning into her embrace, Lucy appeared as though her existing energy was also draining out of her. As usual, Susan had no choice but to be the support for her grieving sister. It was more than obvious that Lucy had reached the end of her quest and found who needed to be found.

This must be Mister Tumnus, the one she always spoke so fondly of, she thought as she held her sister's wracking body in her arms. She wished that there was something that she could say that would help Lucy. The words 'I'm sorry,' suddenly seemed empty and meaningless, almost uncaring as they filtered through her mind.

Of course she wanted to say something but had no idea what at this point. Instead, she simply stared, her eyes somehow taking in the hopelessness of the moment as well as the emotions Lucy was emanating. It seemed so unfair to be so young and to lose someone in such a devastating way.

Lucy's sobs continued to fill the silent air, and Susan took a deep breath. I always thought of her as a crybaby, but now her tears are more than I can bear. Oh Aslan, if you are going to do something to help either of them, then please do it now. Contrary to her thoughts, the seconds slowly ticked by, thus leaving time in a virtual freeze.

Susan continued to watch as Lucy's gaze remained on the faun statue and seemed unwilling to shift. Instead of telling her that it was time to go as she had done at the Stone Table, Susan opted to wait until her sister was ready to leave. Her feet seemed almost rooted to the ground as she too stared up at the statue and a strange feeling of empathy suddenly washed over her.

Several moments later, as if on cue, her gaze shifted to see that Aslan had approached and was standing silently to one side of the statue. Susan watched as the lion inhaled sharply and a soft breeze seemed to emerge from his breath. She stared in disbelief as a lock of the faun's curls wavered and once more fell lazily back over his frozen looking face.

Impossible, Susan thought, his hair can't be moved through the breath of a lion, he's a statute. Seconds passed as her skepticism melted away to reveal astonishment. She stared as life flowed back into the faun's body like water rushing from a river. Soon the bright and vivid colors filled the area as Tumnus was restored.

Lucy had, by this time, moved several steps away from her and was watching, a smile suddenly covering her lips.

Susan listened as a gasping breath emerged from him as his exhausted body fell into the waiting arms of her little sister. Wearily, he raised his head and looked into the eyes of the one who caught him.

"L-Lucy?" He whispered as he reached a hesitant hand out and touched her face. The quivering voice and trembling hand of the faun would remain with her long after they had defeated the witch.

From somewhere, Susan could hear, that out of relief he had started to cry, but seconds passed and that melted away to laughter, all the while, he held tightly to Lucy.

He must really care for her, Susan thought as she watched the two friends embrace. He probably can't believe that she would be present at this moment.

Eventually, Lucy had backed up from her friend, her hand still holding tightly to his, but the laughter still hanging in the air as she spoke.

"Susan, this is…" Lucy began to speak, her excited voice filled with love as she withdrew further from the embrace and turned with the expectation of bringing Susan into this reunion.

Of course, the introductions were not necessary. Susan knew who this was and she practically broke into a run to reach them. "…Mister Tumnus!" She shouted gaily as she threw herself into his surprised arms.

A sound which rather resembled 'oof' emerged from the faun, but as the embrace ended, she raised her head and looked into his weary blue eyes. I would recognize you anywhere, she thought as she noticed how his bright red scarf seemed to add new life and dimension to this otherwise dreary and uninviting place.

**Flashback End**

After what felt like an eternity, Susan opened her eyes, all the while noticing that he was still sitting next to her. The drawing of the faun was now on the floor beside her. She bit down on her lip. "M-Mister Tumnus," she managed to speak, her voice emerging hoarse. She wrapped her arms around herself but she kept her head lowered. "I remember…"

"Yes, Daughter of Eve, you do," he said with a slow nod.

As soon as his words had emerged, somewhere came weeping. She had tears streaming down her face throughout the dialogue, but now he could tell that she could not hold back, her uncontrollable sobs were now filling the room.

He leaned over and rested his hand on her shoulder, thus causing her to raise her head. As he made eye contact with her, he began to ponder whether or not she was crying from grief or relief.

Susan took a deep breath. "You knew all along that I wanted to forget. I tried to pretend that it never happened because it hurt so much, but this is really happening now. I mean; you really are Mister Tumnus…"

He nodded. "Yes, I was transformed into a Son of Adam so that I could come into this place and find you. I have spent many years searching and the time I have devoted to that was all done for the sake of this moment."

"Why did you sacrifice so much for me?" She whispered. "You could have stayed in Narnia where you were happy and safe, but instead you came here. Why?"

"I wanted to see you come home, Your Majesty," he smiled at her and bowed his head.

"Please, don't do that," she whispered. "I'm no longer a queen. To be honest, I don't really know what I am."

"Oh but you are a queen, you always have been," he said smiling. "You see, 'once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen'," he repeated the words Aslan had spoken at the coronation. "Queen Susan the Gentle still lives in the hearts and minds of all Narnians, but she also dwells in you, in your spirit. That has not changed, and all that you really needed was patience and time in which to remember that. You believed that the part of you that was Narnia had died, but it is in fact very much alive."

Susan nodded, but she reached a hesitant hand out and touched the tie. "I just can't believe that all of this is happening. Forgive me, Mister Tumnus, please." As these words emerged, she lowered her head as she had seen him do several moments ago.

He smiled weakly as he moved his hands from her shoulders to her face. With a firm, but gentle hold, he tipped her face up so that she was looking at him. "There's nothing to forgive, Susan. Perhaps it is we who should be seeking your forgiveness or at the very least, your understanding. The experience of Narnia, instead of bringing you joy, has succeeded in hurting you. Part of it was a misunderstanding, but the other part existed because we pushed you away without perhaps knowing why. Today, it is clear to me why you left Narnia. Perhaps Narnia left you long before you could leave it." As he spoke, he gently pulled her quivering body in his arms, her face coming to rest against his chest. As she felt his arms winding around her, she could suddenly feel her body beginning to tremble uncontrollably and his hold tightened.

"I remember," she sobbed softly as she raised her head and regarded him through despondent and sorrow-filled eyes. "It was all real?"

Thomas nodded. "Yes, it was. Everything that happened in Narnia was real. You have been haunted by visions of it for many years now, yet you did not know how to cope with them."

"And y-you came back to help me?" She whispered.

He nodded slowly as the embrace loosened and he sat looking at her through shining eyes. "I came back to help you find your way home, it was a promise that I made not only to Lucy, but also to myself. Once I got here, I realized that I needed help, so Aslan chose another, a Daughter of Eve who showed great courage and strength to assist me. This chosen one has fulfilled everything he promised, she helped us both in find answers and gain insight." He looked at Rachel. "My thanks to you, Lady Rachel."

Rachel smiled, her attention still on Susan. "The important thing is that you're going to get out of this hell hole once and for all. Now, you've got friends who will help you."

"Yes, but I don't really know where to go," she whispered. "I don't have a home anymore, everything's been taken away."

"No, not everything," he said. "The important things are still with you and you have friends who are willing to help you retrieve the material things you have lost. Rachel and Bob will help you even after you leave this place, even after I am gone."

"What about Aslan and Narnia? What good is my remembering everything now? It's too late for me to go back and try to make everything right that went wrong," she said softly.

"That's not entirely true, you see, the memories you have of Narnia is still a part of you and that part will always be with you. Aslan said you could never come back to Narnia, but that was the old Narnia, and even I wouldn't wish to venture back into that place."

Susan looked at the drawing and then up at him. "I'm still afraid. How will I ever be able to face Aslan?"

"I would say that you must face him in the very same manner that Edmund did, or better yet, in the manner you did when you opened up to me," Thomas said softly. "The time is drawing near, soon we shall return."

"We…as in…me too?" Susan asked innocently.

Thomas nodded. "Yes, you too."

"That means I will have to face him?" She whispered.

"That is ultimately the task at hand. Susan, you will face him, but only if you choose to return to Narnia with Rachel and me," he said honestly as he backed away from her and slowly got to his feet.

Once he was standing, he offered his hand to her. "Would you wish to return to Narnia, Daughter of Eve?"

"Yes," she whispered. "But Aslan said I was too old," her voice continued, yet contrary to them she reached for his offered hand.

Thomas accepted her hand and held it as she slowly managed to get to her feet. Eventually, he looked at Rachel and waved his free hand over to her.

When she reached him, he took a deep breath. "The journey you shall take into Narnia will not be permanent for either of you. That is, when you have found closure, then you shall return here and continue your lives. One thing is clear, Susan will no longer suffer the trauma induced in this place."

"I'm still scared of what I will face when I get there," Susan whispered as she lowered her head. "Mister Tumnus, I…"

"I know," he said softly. "The fear of rejection is still very much alive in you."

Susan nodded but looked at Rachel. "Are you afraid, too?"

Rachel shook her head. "No," came her honest but almost automatic response. "I'm more nervous because I've never experienced Narnia before. I don't really know what to expect. It's like that feeling of anticipation that one has just before Christmas morning when they open their presents."

Susan looked at Thomas. "Before we go, can you answer one more question for me?"

"If I can," he said weakly as they slowly made their way to the door.

"What is happening to you?" She whispered. "Since our dialogue started you've changed. Before you just looked tired, but now you look terrible, Mister Tumnus. Seeing you in this state frightens me even more than facing Aslan ever could."

He patted her hand gently. "My time in Spare Oom is running short, Susan. If I do not return to Narnia presently, then I shall die." As the two young women gasped, he continued to speak. "I have done what I have come to do and it fills my heart with joy, but this body will not survive too much longer in Spare Oom. Please, my friends, help me to get home."


	33. Into the Corridor

_Before Susan goes into Narnia, there exist a few loose ends that need to be clarified, thus my posting this chapter. First of all, Aslan did say that Bob would help them, so he must be in a position where he can help them. Up to now, we haven't seen him in what I have come to call the 'revelation scenes'. His involvement in the evolution of this story is of utmost importance, thus this chapter acting as a sort of filler between Susan's realization and her stepping into Narnia. _

_I don't want to rush this coming down segment of the plot. Yes, the climax has happened and Susan knows what is going to happen, but that doesn't mean that I want to rush into Narnia and write 'the end' either. There exists a few other elements that need addressing before the final chapter is posted. There will be a number of chapters left, I don't know how many specifically. I do know that there are a number of areas that need addressing, the reunions between the various characters and that all important conversation with Aslan._

_So, by no means is this the end of the story, but at the same time, I don't want to drag it out too much. I appreciate the reviews on the last chapter, I would still love more reviews on that if you could spare the time and offer them. Yet, I also felt it was time for me to post the next installment to this story. Feel free to review this bit as well._

_Take care and as always, thanks for reading._

* * *

**Chapter 32: Into the Corridor**

Susan looked at him, this time her expression was shadowed with shock and horror. "H-how can we get back? The only portal that I know of is at the Professor's house and that's so far away from here. From London, it would take us close to two hours to get there by train, and then at least another half an hour walking. His place is really out in the middle of nowhere and I'm so scared that you'll die before we get there."

"No, there is another way," Rachel said. "I was told that there is another portal in your office, Tumnus."

As she spoke, he stumbled over to the bed, his body starting to waver. He slowly sat down and raised his head feebly. "I don't know if I can make it…" he whispered.

"You can't die here, you have to get home," Susan said. "Mister Tumnus…"

"Just call me, Tumnus, Susan, I am not all that much older than you, at least not in this state," he managed with a slight smile. "I don't know why all of this is suddenly happening to me."

"I do," Rachel said. "You've done what you set out to do, Susan's coming back to Narnia, and now you are finished and it is time for you to go home." She sat down next to him, her hand resting on his shoulder. "That was your task, now that you have accomplished it, your body is starting to give out. It's sort of like when my grandmother was dying. She knew she couldn't leave until she found someone to take care of her cat, Muffin. Once she found someone would could adopt him, she died peacefully. Your situation is now sort of fast forwarded in that you have nothing left to keep you alive here. You knew from the start, at least internally that the only way you could survive once you were finished was to get back to Narnia."

"I don't know if I can make it, though," he whispered. "I suddenly feel so weak."

"You didn't know if I would listen to or believe you, but I did," Susan said. "If I go back to Narnia alone, then Lucy would never forgive me and you know it. You know that she cares for you more than anyone else in the world. Do you remember when we were standing on the side of the hill ready to go into battle?"

"You never went into battle, Daughter of Eve, Aslan wouldn't allow it," Thomas whispered with a small smile.

"You're right I didn't, but just before you lost your head and charged into battle without a sword, a shield or even a bow and arrow, you looked at Lucy. I looked at her too, but instead of looking at me, she turned and looked at you. It was as though she was telling me that she cared for you, even though she was still a child. There was a connection that you both shared that left me standing there an outsider."

"You weren't, Susan," he said.

"I know that now, but back then I didn't, I just took it in stride," she said. "The other event that showed me she cared was after you were arrested. We had come into your cave and found the note from Morgrim there. Regardless of the danger we faced, Lucy didn't have to contemplate whether or not she would help you, she wanted to with all her heart. I wanted to just go home, I was scared and if the others had listened to me, then you may not have survived at all. It was her determination that kept us in Narnia. Well, that and Edmund running off." She smiled weakly but she looked at him. "I wanted to turn my back on you the first time we came, and I'm so glad I didn't. Now, you have to let me help you, just as you helped me. Tumnus, you saved my life, you gave me a reason to keep living, now you can't die, not after having come this far," she said firmly. "I won't let you."

"You have no control over that, I'm afraid," he said carefully.

Susan said nothing, instead she got to her feet and reached for his hands. His gaze was lowered and finally she spoke, thus making him raise his head. "I'll help you," she said as she practically stuck her hands in his face. "Now, let me help you stand up. I'll carry you to that damn portal if I have to, but you're not going to die, not when we're almost home."

Rachel nodded as she stood up. "Susan, let me help. You stand on that side of him, and I'll stand on this side. If we let him lean up against us, we should be able to help him get back to portal." She wound her arm around his shoulder. "You can put your weight on me, Tumnus, I won't break." She waited for him to hesitantly put his arms around both of their shoulders. Once he did, his weight gave way and his body sagged.

"I fear my energy is leaving me," he whispered. "I should have been near the portal and ready to step through it when I completed the task."

"We'll carry you then," Susan repeated these words with new determination in her voice. She cringed slightly as he tried to shift his weight. Within seconds, she had managed to stabilize her weight. "No matter what happens to me, you will get home," she promised.

"Lucy…" he whispered.

"You'll see her very soon, just don't pass out on us or anything," Rachel said as he tried to adjust his weight so that it was evenly distributed between the two women holding him.

"Let's just hurry, time is running out," Susan said as Rachel inched her way towards the door and opened it. Stepping carefully out into the corridor, they nearly jumped from nervousness when the door closed behind them.

As Susan and Rachel both cast quick glances around the corridor, they both released a pent up breath when they saw that it was empty. Rachel began to speak at that moment, her voice emerging barely above a whisper. "The wardrobe in Dr. Jenkins' office is where the portal is supposed to be. You don't have to go out into the country this time to get there. The wardrobe will bring us there and should bring us back here when our time is at hand. That's what Aslan said, at least."

"You saw Aslan?" Susan asked.

"Yes, he was very kind and I do think that he does care for you, Susan," Rachel said softly. After several moments, she looked at Thomas. "Might I suggest that we pick up our pace a little bit before anyone sees you and thinks you belong in a hospital?"

"There is still one other thing I must do before we go back," Thomas whispered. "I have to sign your release, Susan."

"You need to get back," she said bravely. "The last thing you really need to spend your time doing is worrying about paperwork. This is your life at stake here."

"Yours as well," he said.

"Maybe," she whispered as she squeezed his shoulder gently. "I think I'm going to be alright, at least I hope so."

"As long as you are no longer in this place, you can do anything you want," he said and nodded. "You were never sick to begin with. You were grieving a loss that was so intense that others took advantage of your emotions and convinced you that you were not well. You should never have been brought here at all, simply because you were none of the horrible things that you were told. Now that you have remembered yourself, there is no reason in the world for you to live out your days here. I have to release you so that you can come back and start over." As he finished speaking, his voice was almost inaudible, but he raised his head wearily and continued. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, but I'm still afraid," Susan said softly. "Things won't be the same for me again and I know that beyond any doubt."

"They won't, but they will most definitely be better," Thomas said. "When you come back, only very little time in the present will have passed. You must now trust and know that Rachel and Bob will help you. Just let them, they are good friends and have proven that beyond any doubt."

Susan nodded as she and Rachel continued to help the weakened man down the hall. Just before they were to round a corner that would lead to the various offices, Bob and Martha Richardson nearly plowed into them coming from the opposite direction. Bob's face went from being one of apt contemplation to emanating an open curiosity. Before he could speak, however, Martha did.

"Dr. Jenkins, good heavens what is going on here?" She asked when she saw him being helped down the hall by a young intern and a patient. "This is highly irregular."

"Mrs. Richardson, we haven't got time to discuss this, he needs to sit down," Rachel said with a soft grunt. "We're going to his office so he can."

"No, I think he needs a doctor," Martha snapped, her generally kind face, showing a new, almost annoyed side. "Ms. Friedman, I want to know what is going on and why is it Ms. Pevensie is out of her room?"

"Ms. Pevensie is in my care," Thomas managed. "Regardless of my current state, I am still the doctor assigned to her case." Although his voice remained weak, there existed a determination in his voice. Raising his head, he looked at the woman through dull blue eyes. "Please, step to one side so that we may pass."

"I don't think I can do that," Martha said smugly. "After what I have heard about the three of you, I am starting to wonder why it is the other two of you aren't patients here as well. I would say that they should admit you for observation, specifically since I have personally seen Dr. Jenkins carrying on conversations with himself."

Bob turned and looked at Martha. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course I do, I saw the tapes where our perfect doctor was carrying on dialogues with himself. I have seen a lot of things in my day, but never have I seen doctors acting like patients."

"You were not supposed to see that material," Rachel said.

"Well, I did," she said with a casual shrug of her shoulders. "And once the board of directors gets their hands on it, they will most likely have this good doctor committed. Maybe if you're lucky, you will have adjoining cells with Ms. Pevensie."

Susan looked at the woman. "I am not going back to that room, ever. Dr. Jenkins is going to release me and I'm going to finally leave this hell hole."

As these words emerged, Martha looked at her sardonically. "Are you sure about that?"

"She is leaving," Thomas said. "I don't need any sort of medical help, Mrs. Richardson, but I do wish to get to my office and sit down. If in the future you want to try and have me admitted as a patient, then fine, it's your word against mine."

Rachel looked at him. "Dr. Jenkins, you can't be serious."

"I am, my credibility as a doctor cannot be tested at this point, and once Susan Pevensie leaves this place, she will not come back," he said.

"I'll leave London first," Susan said with an affirmative nod. "I'll even leave England if I have to, but no one, not you, and not your friend, Delores Davenport will ever have the right to mistreat me again."

Bob took a deep breath. "It looks like Pleasantville will lose another patient today, Ms. Richardson."

Martha looked at him, her eyes filled with spite. "Need I remind you Mr. McMullan, that Ms. Pevensie is a code-brown lunatic."

"I am not a lunatic, I never was," Susan said. "You were the one who assigned Dr. Davenport to my case when I came here and you stood idly by and let her torture me along with her two friends Martin and Brad. I am not stupid, and I sure as hell am not a lunatic, if I was, then I would never have known what was going on with regards to my case. But I do."

"You knew all that?" Rachel asked.

"Of course, I just never had the courage to say anything. How many people do you know of who have such courage that they would tell another what they know? I kept it all to myself because I knew that if I talked about being tortured, other people would say, it's the way of life in an asylum. It's worse than jail, you lose your freedom, and if you stay long enough you lose other parts of yourself that can never be recovered. That's why I was code-brown. I was forced to play the role, just like when I was a kid. Let them think I was crazy, it was easier that way, but now I know I'm not crazy, hurt perhaps, angry yes, but crazy, never."

Thomas nodded with a slight smile. "She's right, I knew it was you who got me assigned to the case after Delores Davenport had been thrown out. Perhaps you figured that I would continue things as before because I was young and naïve. Susan Pevensie was made into a code brown patient by Delores Davenport, and you just played along with her. Is that not right?"

Martha looked at him. "That has nothing to do with anything."

"Perhaps not, but you sure didn't do anything about Martin and Brad as orderlies here," Bob said bluntly. "More of the interns have complained about their cruel and brutal treatments of patients, but nothing was ever done about it. They went out of their way to assault Susan Pevensie without prior doctor consent or approval. For the last few days, I was wondering why it was that the board of directors never did anything about those two. It would stand to reason that they could not do anything. Perhaps because certain people who worked and professed to be on the sidelines were harboring reports and other paperwork about those hired to work here."

"Bob, can we discuss this another time?" Rachel asked. "He's needing to sit down and prolonging all of this is not helping."

Thomas raised his head slowly and then lowered it once again. "I feel dizzy," he whispered as he rested his head against Susan's shoulder.

She nodded. "We'll get you inside," she promised as she practically brushed her way past Martha, her body managing to slightly push the other woman to the side.

"I don't think so, you little psycho," Martha said matter-of-factly, her eyes drawing to cat-like slits and her voice was suddenly filled with hate. "Just wait until I go and find Martin and Brad and they will take care of you once and for all."

"It sounds like the wicked witch of Pleasantville has a friend of equal caliber when it comes to trying to pull off evil deeds around here," Bob said with a sarcastic edge in his voice. "I always thought that people in Personnel did not get involved with patient matters, Mrs. Richardson. I would further think that if you really have a connection with Martin and Brad, than that could implicate you in any sort of proceedings that may be pending against Dr. Davenport. Now, please, get out of their way, Susan and Rachel are, unlike you, trying to help someone."

When Martha did not move, Bob reached out, grabbed her arm, and gently pulled her until she had stumbled to one side of the corridor. This gave Rachel and Susan adequate space and they managed to squeeze their way past the woman and slowly made their way towards the office, their arms still wrapped around Thomas' shoulders.

Bob looked up at that moment, his voice drifting down the hall. "I'll be along in a minute."

Rachel and Susan nodded but exchanged determined looks as they continued walking down the hall in the direction of the office.

For his part, Bob turned back around and looked at Martha. "It truly surprises me that you, being a woman of the Catholic faith, would stand there and lie to monk."

"You're not a monk," the woman said sarcastically. "You walk around here looking like a ragamuffin, you smoke, and are rude to me. That's not the behavior of a monk and you know it. You are making a mockery of my faith by trying to pretend that you are something that you are not."

Bob took a deep breath and pulled a small card from his pocket. "If you really believe that I would make a mockery of your faith as you profess, call this number and ask to speak to Abbot Ignatius Schumann. Once you have him on the phone, ask him if Robert McMullan is one of the monks in his order. You can also toss out the name Bob if you want, he will know who you are referring to, and will tell you the truth. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to see how my friends are doing. If you want to send Martin and Brad to Dr. Jenkins office, I cannot stop you, but I can tell you that that if they lay one hand on Susan Pevensie, Rachel Friedman or Thomas Jenkins, then they will not only have to contend with me, but they will also have to deal with Scotland Yard."

With that, he brushed his way past the woman, the card still in her hand and the shock registering on her otherwise emotionless face.


	34. Transformation

_This chapter has a bit more of the spiritual side of writing that I enjoy doing. Hopefully it will ease the worries and concerns that some of you have had in your reviews for Tumnus._

_Yes, the corridor scene is very hard to write as hasty bit to, because there was a great deal that needed to be 'written about'. The fact that Davenport is gone, and the two orderlies are still there is somewhat fishy, and most people who pay attention to detail would call me on that. I felt with that in mind, there really needed to be an established fact about how that could be. I also wanted to establish that when Susan comes back from Narnia that it would be too much to drag out what happens after. I like the sort of implied meanings with that. I thoroughly believe that the issues that were addressed in the last chapter I posted were important. Sorry if it seemed a bit dragged out, but as I said, it was a transitional chapter and one that I felt needed to be tossed in._

_Here's hoping that you will enjoy this, and as always, I'm loving the reviews. I guess in hindsight I could have chopped the chapters up into more parts to get more reviews, but I didn't want to do that to you. I think that its far more important for you to get something out of these chapters (ie. more going on) than to do single page parts, and then boast huge amounts of reviews and feedback. Know what I mean? This is specifically why it is that I won't post less than three page parts to these chapters._

_I get the impression that you folks don't seem mind that, though._

* * *

**Chapter 33: Transformation**

By the time Bob had walked away from Martha Richardson, the three friends had reached the door leading into the doctor's cluttered office. Once they had stopped, Rachel turned and looked at Thomas. "I need the key," she said.

He nodded as he lowered his arm from her shoulder in order to dig in the pocket of his lab coat. With trembling fingers he fished out the object, and handed it to her.

Seconds passed and Bob came running down the hall towards them, his monk's habit flowing behind him as though he was running through a gust of wind. As soon as he reached them, he looked at Thomas. "I don't know what is going on, but we need to get inside before Mrs. Richardson comes back with Martin and Brad in tow." He quickly took the key out of Rachel's hand and expertly unlocked the door before ushering them inside.

As soon as Susan and Rachel managed to help Thomas inside, Bob peered down the hall one last time before slipping into the room and closing the door behind them. For added emphasis, he stuck the key in the lock and turned it, thus locking them securely inside. "That should hold them off, at least for the time we need," he said as he watched the two women helping Thomas onto the sofa. "I don't really know what is happening, but Dr. Jenkins, you look positively dreadful. Perhaps Mrs. Richardson was right on one count, and you really should get to a hospital for treatment."

"He can't, Bob, he's going home," Rachel said softly. "Susan is as well."

"I must have missed quite a bit, what happened?"

"The truth happened, I remembered everything," Susan said as a small, but frightened, smile graced her lips. "I remembered who I am and that I do know how to use a bow and arrow. Perhaps one day I will show you."

"That sounds great," Bob said as he sat down on the sofa next to Thomas. He reached over and touched the doctor's forehead gently with his wrist. Seconds later he removed it and took a deep breath. "Dr. Jenkins, you need help, you're burning up." He stood up and started towards the phone. "I'm going to call an ambulance and see if someone can come and get you. Maybe they can help you."

"No, Bob, it's merely time for me to go home," he began, his voice still weak, but causing the monk to stop dead in his tracks. "Besides, if I know Mrs. Richardson, she has probably gone to get Martin and Brad and all three of them are on their way here. We have to get out now."

"You can't just leave," Bob said as he sat back down on the sofa, his shoulders slumping. "This is crazy."

"No, it's not as crazy as you think," Thomas said, his voice soft. "Bob, my name is not Dr. Jenkins, nor is it Thomas; it's Tumnus."

"Tumnus?" Bob arched and eyebrow and looked at him. "Why did you take on an assumed name?"

"It would take me far too long to explain all of that," came the soft answer as Thomas began to rub his face wearily. As he did this, he could feel the sweat beginning to bead against his forehead. "Do you trust me?" He eventually asked the intern.

"That's a ridiculous question," Bob responded, the shock lacing his words. "Look at how you helped Susan. You seemed to have helped Rachel and me in the process as well. I stood up to Martha Richardson, and I also stood up to those two goons who worked with Delores Davenport. I don't think I could have done that without you having been here. I'm just not that courageous. Simply put, I'm not a hero."

"A hero is not just defined as someone who does heroic deeds, a hero is also someone who will never back down on his principles," Thomas said. "You did that, and that was more profound than anything I could have done. Sometimes, heroic deeds emerge when we are most afraid, but that inspiration has always been there and its inside of you. I learned through this experience that it is inside me as well. But, you still didn't answer my question, Bob. Do you trust me?"

"Why would I not trust you?"

Thomas smiled and nodded. "I need you to promise me something very important. I am leaving, but Rachel and Susan will return here, and when they do, they will both need you to protect them from Martin and Brad. Something must be done about the abuses in this hospital. I think that you will help expose the terrible things that people have been doing here."

"I don't know if I'm the right person for this task," Bob said. "If there is as much corruption here as I think, then there may be no way at all for one person to stop it. It would be like me rushing into battle without a weapon."

"You have a weapon, though. You're a monk, and you stand by your intelligence and faith all the time," Rachel said. "That should be enough. Besides, you can only defeat them with your words, not by acting like a bull in a china closet."

Thomas nodded. "I will tell you this straightaway, most of your code brown patients are not sick at all. Susan was never sick, in fact, she was forced here by someone who swindled her out of her inheritance. Through this experience, she was abused, humiliated and degraded. It's the people like her who will need your help. That is, you can do a lot to help others like Susan. Yet, I am also counting on you and Rachel to help Susan get out of here and recover that, which she has lost. If she does not, then everything I have done here, will be in vain. She and Rachel both need a friend who has the courage and strength to help them through the months ahead. Can you do that?"

"I-I'll do whatever I can, but please, Dr. Jenkins, I-I mean; Tumnus…you can't just leave. This place is a better one since you've been here. How can we continue to follow such a wonderful example as the one you have set?" He shook his head sadly. "I know that it's not very monk-like for me to say this, but you did help to inspire so much in me."

"Then continue the work that we have started together," he said. "If I stay here, I'll die, and very soon. One doesn't have to be a doctor to know when their time is at hand."

Bob looked at Susan and Rachel and then back at Thomas. "What is it specifically that you want me to do?"

Thomas pointed across the room to the file that was lying on his desk. "First, give me Susan's file."

Bob did as was instructed and watched as Thomas pulled a piece of paper from between the pages meshed within the beige colored file. With the page on top of the file, he reached for a pen and began to make notations on the form.

"That's the release form, isn't it?" Bob whispered and Thomas nodded as he affixed his signature to the bottom of the page.

Once he finished, he placed them on the table, the uneven writing revealing the name 'Thomas Jenkins'.

It was at that moment when all four of them reached a silent understanding. The task that Tumnus had been chosen to undertake was now completed.

He slowly got to his feet, his body wavering somewhat and Susan stood up and wrapped her arm around his shoulder. "I don't know how to thank you," she said softly as they started to slowly make their way over to the wardrobe. At that moment, Rachel confidently walked over to it and carefully pulled the broken door open.

The moment she did, light suddenly filtered into the otherwise dark and dreary office. "What's happening?" Bob found his voice and spoke.

"It's time for us to go," Thomas said and looked at Bob. "You will see Rachel and Susan very soon. And perhaps one day, you will see me again as well."

"I hope so," Bob said. "It was a real pleasure working with you, Tumnus."

"I enjoyed it as well," Thomas responded, a genuine smile touching his lips. He took a deep breath as he started to stumble towards the portal, one of his hands reaching out in silent anticipation.

Susan caught up, but before she could help him, a beam of white light suddenly extended out from the door and surrounded him. She backed away and stared wordlessly as the light covered him.

"What's happening?" Bob asked, his question distant and hollow. He looked to Rachel and Susan, but neither spoke, instead they shook their heads.

Without offering an answer, Thomas could suddenly feel the warmth emerging from the light and swallowing him up. From within the nimbus of light, all that he could see was the illumination that reflected out from him. He tried to look down at himself, but all he was able to see was the brightness of it. For whatever reason, he knew instinctively that Aslan was now doing something miraculous. Seconds slowly ticked by when he could no longer feel the pain and weariness that he had grown accustomed to during the last hours.

As the time slowly passed, he could feel the corners of his mouth turning upwards in a smile when he felt that the restrictive clothing against his body was dissolving. The familiar feelings engulfed his lower body and he touched his hip and immediately felt the soft fur that lined his legs.

Next, a light breeze wafted into the room, and he could feel his hair blowing as though he was standing in a meadow. A new life and energy was now taking control of all his senses. The smile grew when he reached up, and touched his chin, the ringlet of hair curling around his fingertips. From there, he trailed his fingers up one side of his face until it was meshed in the tousled curly hair that adorned his head. Still moving his hand about, he could suddenly feel that amidst the curls, a large ear stuck out from the mass of hair on the side.

I'm me again, he internally began to celebrate. Never in all his years of existence was he as happy and grateful about being a faun as it was at that moment. The light grew brighter and brighter around him and just as quickly as it came, it suddenly vanished leaving him still standing in the office. He turned his head and could see that three pair of eyes were now regarding him in profound disbelief.

Thomas Jenkins, or better said, the man they had all befriended was no longer in the room. Instead, what they saw was a strange creature standing, a scarf wrapped around his neck and a new life lurking in his shining blue eyes.

Bob stood up and started towards him, his mouth gaped open. "What are you?" He eventually spoke, his voice cracking as he stared down at the faun's hooves. Apparently, Tumnus had not heard his question because right as he asked it, Susan and recovered and let out an excited squeal.

"Tumnus, it really is you, just like I remember," she cried happily as she raced straight into the faun's arms. "If I didn't believe you in the other room, then I would have no choice but to do so now."

Tumnus smiled as the embrace ended and he looked into the young woman's excited face. "Wait for me, Susan, I'll be along in a moment."

"I'll wait as long as you need me to," she said and walked over to Rachel who stood next to the still opened wardrobe door.

For his part, Tumnus turned and faced a now bewildered Bob McMullan. "Bob, it's time for us to go."

"Wait…before you go," he whispered. "Tell me…what are you? I mean; your voice sounds the same, but this is so unbelievable."

Tumnus smiled as a small chuckle emerged. "I don't mean to laugh, but Lucy asked me the very same question the day we met." He took a deep breath. "To answer your question, I'm a faun," Tumnus responded and Susan giggled.

"You really are from another place? Another time?" Bob asked.

"Yes, and one day, if you keep your eyes open, you'll find your way to this place as well," he said as he reached for Bob's hand. "Lucy taught me when people part company that they shake hands."

Bob smiled and reached his own hand out to Tumnus, but was surprised when the faun took his middle and index finger and literally shook Bob's hand.

"I think you still need some practice with that," the monk said laughing as he pulled his hand away for a moment and then reached for Tumnus' hand. As soon as he captured Tumnus' hand, he placed the faun's hand into his own and the two shook hands properly. "Take care of yourself and for what its worth, you will always have friends in London if ever you need a sanctuary here."

Tumnus nodded as he cast a final glance back around the small office. Before he could respond, the sounds of loud banging and demanding voices could be heard. "You must go now, the door could give way at any time. You don't want to be trapped in this place, you'd never get out of London alive," he whispered urgently as he practically shoved Tumnus towards the open wardrobe. "Now go."

Through this persuasion, the faun entered the wardrobe and disappeared in a beam of light.

"You know what you have to do," Rachel turned and looked at him. She reached for Susan's hand and the two women disappeared through the portal as well.

Nodding, Bob pushed the wardrobe doors closed as the light vanished and the room was once more lulled back into darkness.

Taking a deep breath, managed to turn back towards the door and extended his hand with the intention of turning the key. When the door opened, he was left staring up at two pair of eyes. Martin and Brad were standing like twin battering rams in the doorway. "Looking for something, boys?" He asked snidely, as his gaze drifted from one to the other.

"Mrs. Richardson said that Susan Pevensie and Rachel Friedman were inside and that Ms. Pevensie is in need of a little treatment," Brad said as he began to pop his knuckles meaningfully but leaned around Bob in order to cast a glance into the office.

"Not anymore," Bob said smiling as he backed away from the doorway and went over to retrieve the file.

The two men followed, their critical eyes taking in the room. "Where'd they go?"

"Where did who go?" Bob asked, the smug look in his eyes indicative that he was now thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Those two broads and Jenkins?" Martin asked.

"They're not here, I was told to take Susan Pevensie's release form to the admittance and discharge desk, that's why I came here, to retrieve it," Bob said. "Basically, this means that anything you wish to do to Susan could be held against you in a court of law. It also indicates that as soon as I see Susan again, I will inform her that she is no longer a patient at Pleasantville and can leave. How does that grab you?"

"You're lying, no code brown has ever gotten out of here," Martin said. "Besides that, Mrs. Richardson said that the two broads were in here, so where are you hiding them."

"I'm not hiding anything, but if you want, feel free to have a look around," he said and watched as the two orderlies began to look around the room. Martin opened the wardrobe door to see it empty, and Brad began to look around the desk.

"You see?" Bob asked after several minutes had passed. "There's no one else in here but me, and as for your code brown assumption, there is a first time for everything, is there not?" Without thinking about what he was doing, he quickly left the room, the two men stumbling their way behind him. When they did not disperse, Bob eventually turned around to face them. "Is there anything else you both need?"

"I guess not," Brad mumbled. "Maybe Mrs. Richardson was wrong and the Pevensie broad is somewhere else. Come on, Martin, let's go see if we can find her."

"You won't find her, and even if you do, once I turn this over to someone who is honest and works here, then Susan Pevensie will be free to go and anything you do will be left in the hands of the police," Bob said as the two men continued to follow him.

At least one thing is clear, he thought. This may just explain why it was I couldn't go into Narnia with Susan and Rachel. I have to play damage control with those two bozos.

By this time, he had reached the admitting desk with Susan's release papers. He handed the file to the woman on duty and watched as she wordlessly got up and disappeared into the back of the room. Seconds later, she returned with a receipt and what looked to be a large green garbage bag. "These are the patient's clothes," she explained.

"Thank you," he said as he accepted the bag and turned away from the desk. When Brad and Martin continued to follow him, he took a deep breath as he continued down the hall. "Anymore questions, boys?"

"Yeah, are you really a monk?" Martin asked.

"Yes, I am, and may God hold you both in His hand when you go on trial for all the crap that you have instigated in this hospital," he said. With the bag of clothing swung over his shoulder, he made his way back down the hall in the direction of Susan's room. Before reaching the room however, he stopped for a moment at the nurses' station with the intention of placing a phone call.

"Nurse Williams, would it be all right if I made a quick call?" He asked the woman on duty.

"Of course, Brother Robert," she said formally as she shoved the phone over to him.

He smiled, picked up the receiver, dialed and waited. After several rings, a familiar voice answered his call. "Abbot Ignatius, this is Brother Robert calling. I wanted to inform you that the flat on our property that was occupied by Thomas Jenkins is now empty, and I was wondering if we could allow someone in transition to live there."

"Who?" Came the almost immediate question.

"Her name is Susan Pevensie, she's a friend of the good doctor. She lost her family in a train accident and is going through the grieving process. I think right now what she needs is a sanctuary. Since she is no longer a patient at Pleasantville, she going to need a place to stay until she can get back on her feet. I know this sounds strange, but this has a lot to do with a promise I made."

"Does it have anything to do with a woman calling and asking if you were really a monk?" The abbot asked.

"Yes, ironically it does," Bob responded. "She wanted to approve Ms Pevensie being tortured, like what had happened with Delores Davenport."

"I see, well, our doors are always open to the weary traveler, my son," came the kind response. "The guest housing will help in any way they can and I will put a special request in on behalf of your friend."

"I don't know if I could call her that just yet, Abbot Ignatius," he said softly. "I mean; I know her and I emphasize with her…"

"…Believe me," the older man interrupted. "She is your friend, otherwise you wouldn't be doing this. I'll have everything ready for her arrival later today." With that the abbot hung up and Bob stood for several moments with the phone still in his hand before replacing the receiver.

He stood for several minutes and contemplated the abbot's words, and then abruptly, he nodded as he picked up the bag of clothing. "Yes, she is a friend," he whispered under his breath. He returned the phone to the nurse and started back down the hall.


	35. The Journey

_a/n: I hope that this chapter will explain the time element to you so that you will be satisfied by the believability of it. Since time with the Narnia universe seems to be decided by Aslan, I have decided to make him the one to determine how long all of these events will play out._

_As always I do appreciate the feedback and the reviews. I'm glad that people reading are satisfied with the amount that I post per chapter. In some places I have been told that the chapters were too long and in others folks seemed satisfied with the length. I have actually found that most serious writers tend to make their chapters more than three or four pages in length whereas the younger writers have the snippets. I have personally grown disinterested in a number of stories and stopped reading them when they devolved down to one page chapters. I want to give you all something to chew on and not get you into the chapter only to leave you hanging with the end of it. That's just me though. _

_I am looking forward to the chapter with Susan and Aslan myself, and can tell you straight up that I haven't written it yet. I tend to write about 10 pages ahead of my posting, so there will be a bit going on before that last conversation. I plan on having it near the chapter where she returns. I write this way because it keeps me not so bogged down with posting chapters, and it also makes for good editing as well as the overall depth of the chapter. I do add quite a bit after the rough drafts are written._

_I won't leave you all hanging too much longer. This is the last London Chapter…the rest of the full chapters will take place in Narnia. The epilogue is presently undecided it may be half and half, but this is the last major focus on Bob's character._

_With that said, I give you the latest chapter…also the title of a song by my favorite artist._

_Enjoy and reviews are greatly appreciated._

* * *

**Chapter 34: The Journey**

The hospital walls felt somewhat different to Bob as he walked. His eyes were scanning the corridor and his head was held high, contrary to the sadness he carried about Thomas Jenkins or Tumnus no longer being in London.

He felt strange at this moment. It was as though his whole life was now a journey through a transitional phase. He was a monk still on probation and he was also an intern and not yet a doctor. Added to that, he was confused about the promises that he had made to Tumnus prior to his departure. Where was Robert McMullan heading and how well would he do when it came to walking the footsteps of his mentor?

I never really thought all that much about it, he thought as he reached the door that led into Susan's room. In fact, two years ago he really had no idea what he really wanted, but now felt as though he was trying to pave out a path for himself.

He extended his hand and grasped the lever and pressed it down before opening the door and entering the room. As soon as he was completely inside the room, he pushed the door closed behind him until it clicked.

For several long minutes, he stood and took in the barren looking room. For whatever reason, he remained standing in the center of the room, the bag of clothing still in his hand. He did not step towards the bed, instead, he opted to remain where he was.

So much had happened here, he thought as he slowly started to move from the middle of the room and dropped the bag on Susan's unmade bed. He could tell almost instinctively that the room looked lived in, but there was a coldness that left him shivering. If it got any colder in here it would probably start snowing, he thought to himself with an awkward chuckle.

Slowly, he walked over to the desk and stared down at the pictures that were still lying on it. He retrieved the small stack and began to flip through them. As he did, he smiled when he recognized that among them, a bow and arrow was neatly sketched.

"She remembered it, and from the looks of it, she didn't even have to see the picture to do so," he whispered under his breath.

"No, she didn't," a voice emerged and abruptly he turned around to see that a golden lion was standing in the doorway.

"Who are you and do you always make it a habit of scaring the daylights out of those you pay a visit?" He asked with a sly smirk. "You do that too often and then we'll have no choice to understand why it is Susan Pevensie is so afraid of lions."

"To answer your first question, I think you already know the answer, Son of Adam," the lion said.

"Yes, I'm smart," Bob responded challengingly. "Yet, you still haven't apologized for scaring about two years off my life just now."

"I think you are in for a nice long life, Robert McMullan and I have no reason to apologize," the lion said simply.

"How do you know my name?"

"Well, I know a great deal about you," came the response. "I also am fully aware of the fact that you do understand that one of the nicest things about a friendship is the level of inspiration that comes from it. The fact that you inspired great things in both Rachel and Susan is does not go without reward."

"Reward?" Bob asked. "I'm not in it for a reward, it's enough for me to know that I did something right."

"That's the reward," the lion responded.

"Perhaps, but you still didn't answer my question," he said. "Who are you. I don't generally ask, but I don't get into two-way dialogues very often."

"Who do you think I am?"

"I don't know unless you're Aslan," Bob said as he received a confirming nod. "So that's why it is that Susan was afraid of you. She was screaming your name in her dreams."

"Yes, and she still is, but she will come to know that I am not to be feared," he said.

"You know, I always thought that this was just a dream, that it couldn't really happen. Then just now, I saw the door and the light, and Dr. Jenkins changing into this strange, but wonderful, creature."

"It can happen, Robert," Aslan said. "Yet, even with all the things that you have seen, you are probably wondering why I am here now."

"Well, the thought has crossed my mind, especially after seeing what happened. I figured after all that, Susan was speaking the truth. I saw that light and it pretty much removed any doubt I might have had. But why was I left out, Aslan?"

"You were never left out, Robert McMullan of Glasgow," he began. "You were a grander part of Susan Pevensie's fate than you have yet to realize. She is a person who must find her way, and you will help her along with Rachel Friedman. You have been chosen to help her, and that shall be achieved through your faith and perseverance so long as you so choose. Narnia will always live in you, it remains a fixture in your heart and mind. That can help others in the process of living," Aslan said softly.

"But why couldn't I have gone and seen it just now?" Bob asked.

"Because you already have in that sense," he began. "You see, the images that Susan and Rachel are seeing, are images that remain in your heart and mind. They need the affirmation of their presence there, but you do not. Your mind has already given you all that you need. So all that I can say is you should use it. Try and help Susan and Rachel to do so as well when they return from Narnia. Once you become a mentor to them, then there will no longer be the need for any of you to go back until your time is at hand. Remember, you have learned a great deal in your life, and what you choose to do with those lessons will not only change you, but they can inspire the very best to emerge in another person. This is one task of many that you will encounter in your life."

Bob looked down at the drawings that graced the desk. "I understand, at least I'm trying to."

"I know you are," Aslan said. "Robert, I am not saying 'no' to you with regards to you visiting Narnia, I am saying 'not yet'. I want you to remember that nothing I say is meant to be taken as a rejection, for I reject no one who truly carries Narnia in their hearts. I am very pleased with how you have grown during the last weeks. I am overjoyed that you have helped both Daughters of Eve find closure in their lives. You must not forget that your work is not over."

"What must I do?" He asked.

"You will know when the time is at hand," the lion responded. "There is something that I must explain to you before I go, something that Susan will question."

"What?" He asked.

"I have made it so that when Susan returns, the time that has passed here will have been enough for you to insure not only her release, but also arrange a place for her. Since I know you have already done this, when you are through speaking with me you must immediately return to the portal. I have allowed that lapse in time to take place so that all will be made ready for Susan when she returns. You see, if none of these preparations had been made, then everything Tumnus had done here would have been for naught. In order for it to be a safe place for both Daughters of Eve, you were needing some time to fulfill these extra tasks."

"You mean this thing regarding Brad and Martin?" He asked.

"Yes, and Martha Richardson as well," Aslan said with a nod. "There exists an authority in this place that appears far more powerful than anything you have ever witnessed. It is a power that says the strong shall dominate and control the weak. It says that the more people participate in this game, the better. However, it has merely been used to fill the gap that exists in one's life. Most will attest that the act of doing this is wrong. It is very much like a witch taking control of a place, pushing her will, and not recognizing what it is they have done. At this moment, Robert McMullan, you have learned what it means to help others. You have recognized, listened, but have also spoken of the injustices that have taken hold of this place. There is still much to be done and you possess the courage to take it on and make the necessary changes."

"Yes, perhaps, but as a monk, I cannot do much," he argued.

"As a monk you can do great things," Aslan said. "A monk should not limit what you are capable of doing or being. The true courage shines forth when you have the courage to act out in love and compassion for your fellow man. A monk can live in solitude or he can step out from the monastery walls and allow himself to be inspired to jump into action. What you are is a part of it, but it should not limit what it is you can become."

As he spoke, a bright light filled the room and then as quickly as it had come, it vanished taking Aslan with it.

Bob swallowed. "Aslan?"

When no answer emerged, a cool breeze wafted his hair and he turned his head to see that on the floor, and once more intact, the drawing of the lion lay.

Hesitantly, he approached, leaned over and grabbed the page and stared for a moment down at it. As he did, a second page caught his eyes and he retrieved it at as well.

He stared down at the piece of paper, his eyes taking in the lines that covered it. They seemed to be smeared somewhat by what he guessed were Susan's tears. Taking a deep breath, he brushed a casual hand across the surface of the paper. "Tumnus…" he whispered as a smile broke through and he ran his hand over the drawing and nodded. This drawing was one that he knew he would want to keep. He tucked it with the other drawings in the folds of his habit and started back towards the door.

"I'll wait for Narnia too," he whispered as he pulled it open and left the room. He knew at that moment that his next destination would be the portal. All that was left for him to do now was to wait for Susan and Rachel to return.

* * *

The moment Susan stepped through the portal behind Tumnus, she took a deep breath as she got her first real look at Narnia. The storybook images she had seen in her room were now filled with a virtual rainbow of light and color. She looked at him somewhat hesitantly as they abruptly stopped for a moment in order to take in their surroundings. 

"Susan?" Tumnus asked as he offered his arm and she accepted. "Is everything alright?" He pulled gently on his arm and she lowered her head to see that she was gripping his arm so firmly that his arm had become a strange shade of red.

She loosened her hold and smiled weakly at him. "I'm sorry."

"Are you alright?" He repeated the question.

"Not really, I'm scared," she admitted. "I was excited before when I thought about coming back, but now I'm frightened. What should I say to the others or to Aslan?"

"Tell them what is in your heart," he said kindly as he patted her hand. "How they react to you words will be entirely up to them."

They continued walking, both of them taking in the familiar wood at the edge of the world. Rachel had stopped walking and had removed her shoes and fell in step several meters behind them. The young intern did not seem to mind being alone or engulfed by the solitude of the place. In fact, she found the area almost hypnotic until Susan's voice broke into her reverie.

"Where's the lamppost?" Susan eventually asked as they reached that place that she had always heard called as Lantern Waste.

"That was in old Narnia," Tumnus explained. "In the new Narnia, there is no lamppost because in the original Narnian history, that was created by Jadis of Charn, otherwise known as the White Witch. When Aslan brought us into the new Narnia, we immediately recognized that the lamppost was missing. Regardless of that fact, we still decided to call this area, 'Lantern Waste' as a way to remember the geography of old Narnia. All of these things have been waiting for many years, Susan." He led her through a group of trees, and into a bright and cheerful meadow.

As they reached the clearing, she gasped when she could see that a large group of Narnians were standing in various clusters. It appeared as though they were waiting for something and in the back of her mind, she wondered if it was her. "What is happening? Who are all those people?" Susan eventually asked as they came closer to the group.

"They've been waiting for you," he said smiling as his own eyes scanned the assembled group. "If you look sharp, you might just see a few familiar faces."

"What should I say to them?" She repeated the same question she had asked only moment's ago.

"You'll know when the time is right," he said smiling as he bowed to her. "I am absolutely certain that you will do fine, Your Majesty."

"I told you not to call me that," Susan complained.

"But you are now," Rachel said. "Just look at you, you look positively radiant. If I didn't know better, then I would affirm that from your appearance alone, that I was in the presence of royalty."

Susan smiled. "You're a very good friend, but I think you're wrong," she began, her gaze drifting until it came to rest on her clothing. Gone was the white long-sleeved-shirt and pants. In their place, she was now eloquently dressed in a long yellowish gold colored gown. Her hair, although short as it had been in London was now styled daintily and a golden crown of matching leaves and flowers now graced her head. "Then again…" she said her voice trailing as she shook her head with profound disbelief.

"You see, you really do look like a Queen, Susan," Rachel offered smugly. "Go and see your family and friends, you've been granted a second chance. I think that's what Aslan wanted to have happen since he's not yet here."

Susan nodded and slowly, she began to walk alone towards the group of Narnians. After several minutes, she abruptly stopped and swallowed the nervous lump that formed in her throat. As she bit down on her lip, and felt as though she was cemented to the ground, Tumnus approached her and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Do you remember the garden?" He asked.

"Where we sat and spoke back at the hospital?" She responded with a question of her own.

"Yes," he nodded. "When you stepped into the garden, you walked with elegance and queenly grace that was all your own. You were not expected to be anything other than what you were. Yet you found the courage to walk into that place as though you were addressing a court filled with subjects. That was a practice run for today, for this moment. You are Queen Susan the Gentle, and you are still a vital part of Narnia."

"You crowned me," she said softly.

"Yes, I took part in the coronation, and it filled me with the greatest of pride," he said as he patted her hand gently. "No one will judge your presence in Narnia, and if they do, then as your friend, I shall kindly remind them that you were ordained queen by Aslan himself. That means that anyone who might get angry with you would have no right to do so. Remember, you have a right to be here, so go and show them that you are not just gentle, but you are also strong and courageous."

"I'm professing that, right?" she asked insecurely.

"Yes, you are. Now, shall I escort you to see your subjects, friends, and family, Your Majesty?" He asked.

"I'd like that very much," she said with a slow nod. "Thank you, Tumnus."

He offered her hand a final pat and then led her through the trees. As they emerged from the shadows, instead of hearing scornful words, Susan listened as loud cheers suddenly erupted from those assembled and filled her ears. Susan's eyes widened when she heard shouts of 'Long Live Queen Susan', filling the air and drifting towards the heavens. One of the nymphs even came running towards her and reached for her hand and wordlessly pulled her into the group. The hold she had on Tumnus was abruptly loosened and soon he was separated from her. Not thinking anything of it, he backed away from the throng of people and simply watched as Susan was welcomed home.

As he was backing away, Rachel joined him, the cheers continuing to fill both of their ears. I haven't heard this much happiness in years, she thought as she witnessed Susan received greetings, kisses to the hand, and hugs from her Narnian subjects.

She looked at Tumnus. "You did it," she whispered.

"No, we did it," he said with a slight nod and smile.


	36. Another Reunion

_OK, since I got a new CD that really inspired my creative juices, you folks are getting a new chapter today. I love it when I get inspired to write. _

_First, I want to acknowledge the feedback I've been getting and I want to address the issue of Bob's lack of reverence towards Aslan. As I have said in my profile as well as in some of my stories. I am new thought spiritual thinker, my interpretations of Narnia are quite different than the traditionalist thinkers might have about it._

_Yes, the allegories are things I see, but for me, these were stories for children more so than anything else. It doesn't mean that I completely scoff off the allegory, I just cannot write entirely from this 'allegorical' point of view. I also want to say that if I have every character bowing before Aslan, then I will personally grow very tired of this sort of cookie cutter reaction. To me, I want the characters to react to Aslan differently, simply because each person who interprets Narnia will see Aslan in a different way. Just as Christians view Jesus in a different way. Some will bow, while others will embrace him as their brother. For me, this is just showing a different approach._

_The other thing that I want to say is that although Bob is a Benedictine monk, he is a young monk, and he is still learning about his spiritual self. Yes, he is Roman Catholic and follows the doctrine of the church, but he is also an individual who has questions and ideals that could stem away from the church's teachings. Just because he is a monk does not mean that he is a cookie cutter character or that all monks are going to react to something in the same way. They are human, and thus capable of imperfection. This is something that I really wanted to write because of the fact that I have met monks myself and their characters are all each distinctly different. Through Bob, I am hoping that this will not only give people something to think about, but will also give way to the release of stereotypes._

_I do personally love the character of Aslan, but the way I perceive him is quite different than what someone who views it more traditionally would. It is for this reason that I have decided to have Bob react to in the way that he did. Being a monk does not automatically define him as a wiser and smarter than the rest of us, but in that sense, it does define him as a seeker of sorts._

_With that said, I hope that you enjoy this latest chapter and as always, I appreciate your comments and feedback. Thank you and now a reunion scene._

_BTW: I am hopeful that no one will read any sort of romantical inuendo into this reunion. These are a sister and two brothers seeing each other for the first time in years...nothing more. So before you ask if there is anything implied here, I will respond with a resounding ABSOLUTELY NOT! I am not a shipper of incest / slash pairs, I never will be. _

* * *

**Chapter 35: Another Reunion**

For the next few hours, it became clear to everyone present that Susan was overwhelmed. Never in her life had she been offered so many kind words and sentiments from those she had met or been reunited with.

After some time had passed and the Narnian subjects had dispersed somewhat, she inhaled sharply when she suddenly spotted her brothers on the outskirts of the meadow. They appeared to be patiently waiting so they could speak more extensively with her. Where was Lucy? She asked herself, but at the same time, she was biting down on her lip as she watched them approaching.

As they came closer, Susan could not get over the changes in them. They were both grown men and visually looked to be very handsome as well as strong and confident. Peter still wore the golden crown that she remembered when he was named High King of Narnia. Now, he had a beard, which covered his chiseled chin. Her gaze shifted and she took in Edmund's attributes. Aside from having a youthful looking face, his hair was long and wavy, and a dark brown or black color. The silver crown that graced the top of his head seemed to create the most wonderful contrast.

As they came closer, Susan could not help but smile as she noticed how the two of them were walking as though in precise step with one another. She raised her head to see that as they both reached her, they had grown and were both considerably taller than she was. Peter seemed to tower over her bigger than life. Both of smiled when they made eye contact with her.

Without thinking, Susan extended her trembling hands out towards them. When she felt their strong fingers intertwining hers, the tears began to stream from beneath her eyes and she felt herself pulled gently into their arms. Eventually, she found the courage to speak, her words seemed to embrace the two young Narnian Kings. "Peter? Edmund?" She managed as she looked down at their joined fingers. It was at this moment when Rachel's words about a second chances rang truer than anything else she could have imagined.

"Hello, Susan," Peter said smiling as he felt her face pressing against his chest, the tears dampening his tunic.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered all the while not certain if either of them could hear this. Her body seemed to be trembling as she lay enfolded in her brother's strong arms. "It's so wonderful to see you both again." She repeated her earlier words as she raised her head and looked into Peter's wise eyes.

"It's great to see you too," Peter said, his own voice cracking as he brushed her hair from her face. "You know, short hair really suits you, gives you that added elegance and strength I didn't know you had."

"Yeah," Edmund added with a small smile. "At least when you pick up the bow and arrows, you won't get your hair caught in it."

"Oh really?" She asked, a small giggle escaped, but that melted away to a look of nervousness.

"You alright?" Peter asked.

"Not really, I mean; I really must have messed up." She turned and looked at Edmund.

"What?" The younger of the two brothers spoke, all the while sensing her agitation.

"I just forgot how handsome you are," she admitted. "I truly never imagined that this moment would even come."

"We know, we felt the same way, but the important thing is that you're back. Now, you won't ever forget Narnia again," Peter said, his voice was filled with happiness, but laced with it was also disbelief.

"You know that my time here is not permanent," she said. "I will have to go back once I take care of what Aslan wants me to do here. Tumnus seems to believe that I will be OK now that I have friends there. The true kind of friends, not those fair weathered ones like Charles. I think I will be fine knowing that Rachel and Bob are on my side."

"Good, I always thought Charles was rather an idiotic bloke," Peter said bluntly.

"It took me some time to actually realize it," she said weakly.

"Better late than never," Peter nudged her, his eyes bright, but both he and Edmund could tell that she was nervous.

Before he could speak further, Edmund looked at her. "You know, I think you sound much braver right now than you feel. I have this distinct impression that you're scared of eventually having to face Aslan. I felt the very same way during my first meeting with him. He won't maul you or anything, he just wants to talk to you."

"I know that," Susan said, "but I'm still scared. I have noticed that since I returned that he's not here so I don't know what will happen now. I thought maybe I could talk to him first, get it over with, and then have some time with you before I have to go back."

"That's not the way it's going to be," Peter said softly. "That's why Lucy's not here. She wanted to come more than anything in the world, but Aslan made a request of her to stay at home until after you have spoken with him, then you will be able to see her. From what I understand, she will be the last person you will see before you return."

"I have to wait to see her?" Susan asked. "That makes no sense. She was the one who wanted to see me and find a way to get me to come back. I figured that she would be the first."

Peter took a deep breath. "I cannot tell you why it is that Aslan has planned things this way, perhaps it is a test in trust for you. All I do know is that Lucy trusted Aslan and has stayed home until the time is right." He took a deep breath. "I probably should go and tell Tumnus pretty soon so he should go and see her. I must admit that it really did surprise me that she actually had the will to stay away from him. I don't think you know this, but she really does love him."

"Don't be so sure about how much I know," Susan said. "I have been aware of her feelings towards him since probably before she admitted them herself. I could see the love they shared back when we were in Narnia the very first time."

"What do you mean?" Edmund asked.

"When Tumnus was helping me to remember who he was, I recalled the moments following Aslan having restored him at the White Witch's castle. It would not have been difficult for anyone to see the love that emanated between them. It was a very special moment for both of them," she said softly.

"Maybe you did," Peter smiled weakly.

"Can one of you at least tell me how long Tumnus was away from Narnia?"

"Three hundred years," Peter said. "In your time it was about five or so years. The absence of both of you was very hard for Lucy even though she was not about to admit it. She went for so long playing off the idea that everything was fine, but we both knew that it was not. Lucy missed him terribly, and all she had to hold onto during that time was the faith that Tumnus would succeed in his task and return home. She also said that she could later piece together what had happened to you and why it was you were so hurt when you and I were no longer allowed to come back."

"What do you mean?" Susan asked, the color slowly draining from her cheeks.

"Lucy confided something to us after the adventures in Narnia had ended. This was before we went to the Professor's place and she had overheard a row between you and Mum in the kitchen. You were both trying so hard to keep her from finding out about the pressures you were under, but she always knew. She said that Mum had told you that you had to grow up and be there for us when she couldn't. Lucy later said that she felt badly for you because of how you always had to play the grown up while we were having a good time."

"S-she told you that?" Susan asked.

"Yes, but you should have at least told me how you felt," Peter said. "It would have explained quite a lot and I would have been a lot more tolerant than I was. I suddenly remembered that row we had when we were on our way to the Stone Table to meet Aslan. I always thought you wanted to be the grown up, to show the rest of us how smart you were, but I guess it was about a year later when I realized that it was all an act."

"How did you figure that out?" Susan asked.

"Easy, when Aslan told us that we couldn't come back, you had that 'I hate being the grown up' look written all over your face. Soon after that, I figured that the only thing we could do was to try and make the best of it. We couldn't change his mind, so all we could do was just get on with it. I pretty much had to shove everything aside and try to make the best of it."

"You felt badly about it too?" Susan asked and when Peter nodded she shook her head in profound disbelief. "I always thought that you just took everything in stride, that you just wanted to become a man like our father."

"No, I was really upset about it," Peter admitted. "It may not be in the best masculine tradition to admit it, but I was pretty devastated after Aslan told us. Susan, I'm the older brother, it was sort of expected of me to get over disappointments and move on. If I were to have cried, then Mum and everyone else would have thought I was crazy. So, I waited until I thought the house was empty and let my frustrations out. I figured that once I did, everything would be alright. Yet, it had become obvious to me when we talked at the train station that you just didn't want to and I had to accept it."

"Funny, when we spoke to Aslan, I somehow thought you were sucking up to him," she admitted.

"Maybe I was telling Aslan what I thought he might have wanted to hear, I don't really know," Peter said. "It really was a long time ago, but I can tell you this. That time when I was making swordplay with the tree branch, I really was trying to grasp something from this place. It was one of the ways I could keep the memories of it alive inside myself."

"And I got so angry with you because of it," Susan said. "I thought you were just pretending."

"No, that was just his way of coping," Edmund said, thus breaking his silence. "Su, after we came back after our adventure with Caspian, he was blubbering like a baby about this. I remember because the day he thought he was alone, I found him in his room and he was rather upset. I had knocked at the door and could hear him saying in a sniffling like voice, 'go away'. I left him alone for a time and later came back to find that he had been crying. His face was all red and he was staring at the wall. I looked at him and said: 'When Lu and I go back, I promise to tell you everything that happened so you will feel as though you were a part of it too'."

"You really said that?" Susan asked, now looking at her younger brother.

"Yes I sort of knew what was going on with him, and so when we did talk about it, that was why Lu and I mentioned every last detail of it. I wasn't doing it to annoy you, I was fulfilling a promise I made. Just before we came back, Aslan told us the very same things he told you and Peter earlier. We all went through the same conversation, but none of us could fully understand the finality of it. We were trying to keep going, but it was not easy for any of us. I used to think that it was hardest for Lucy because she was so tied to the place, but I guess later it became clear to me that you had it much harder than the rest of us."

"Why didn't anyone ever tell me this?" Susan asked.

"Because your little act was so believable that we thought that you were really only interested in dating, dance cards, make up, and being the grown up," Peter said directly. "I know it sounds hard to hear, but it's true. Even Lady Polly and Sir Digory thought that you were so caught up in all that rubbish that it had become difficult for any of us to approach or talk to you about it."

"Digory?" Susan whispered.

"The Professor, he was in Narnia before any of us had gone," Edmund said. "The story with the apple tree, the rings, and the flying horse was positively brilliant. He outlined every last detail to us."

"Well, that does explain a lot," Susan mused a small smile now covering her face.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked.

"Don't you remember when we spoke to him about Narnia for the first time? It was the night when Edmund was being nasty and Lucy was crying. He told us that we are Lucy's family and should start acting like one," Susan related. "I never forgot those words, even though it was hard for me to accept them at times. The truth is, I never wanted to forget Narnia, I just wanted to forget how much leaving it behind had hurt."

"Then I guess I was wrong," Peter said. "For the longest time, I thought that you didn't care about Narnia at all."

"I guess we both handled our pain differently," she said. "I'm very sorry that I let you both down." She lowered her head, but suddenly felt her brother's hand touching the side of her face and making her look up at him.

"You never let anyone down, you were just trying to fill more shoes than you humanly could have. I should have seen it," he said. "I'm your older brother I could have tried to do something to help."

"What could you have done, it was during the war and we were all forced into roles and responsibilities that we couldn't handle," Susan said.

Edmund looked at her and nodded. "It was a hard time for all of us, and it took this old codger here quite a bit of time before he finally was able to accept it." He punched Peter's arm and began to laugh.

"Tumnus said that people missed me here," she said softly. "I didn't really realize that until I heard people shouting my name and embracing me. It is so different from sitting alone in London in that horrible hospital. I realize now that I really was missing out on a lot."

"Then maybe you should come with us and we'll show you how much you really were missed," Peter said. "We can also reintroduce you to the friends you left behind."

Susan smiled. "I'd like that, but I think Rachel should come with us. She's an old classmate of Lucy's, but she's also a very dear friend to me now. She wanted to experience Narnia, and Aslan has allowed her to come along with us."

"Well, let's go get her and get started," Edmund said.

Susan looked at them. "Will it be hard for you when I have to leave again?"

"Yes, but not as hard as the last time," Peter said as they started walking towards where Rachel and Tumnus were sitting. "Probably because this time we all know that you'll be coming back."

Edmund nodded. "Yes, and as for returning, don't worry, you did get a second chance, and Narnia will not disappear from your memory, it will stay with you until you return. Personally, I am certain that when everything ends for you in London, or as Tumnus calls it, Spare Oom, you'll be back here with us for good."

Susan wound her arms around her brothers' shoulders, the smile that she carried on her face now genuine. "Then I don't want to waste anymore time, let's get going."

In the back of her mind, however, she could not help but wonder about her pending dialogue with Aslan.. This was inching closer and closer to her and she knew that Edmund had been right, she truly was frightened.


	37. A New Lesson in Living

_This is going to be a short author's note, partially because it is late here, and because I'm tired and want to go to sleep. I am sending out a thank you and kudos to Fledge for the help on this chapter. The message I received tonight actually helped with the revision work that I had been doing with this chapter. So, thanks to Fledge for the idea, it's very much appreciated. _

_Now with that said, I love the reviews, I appreciate them, and I am monumentally blown away by all of your comments. Thank you all so very much, I am gratified in knowing that my work has left a positive impact here._

_There will be at least two more chapters after this, and I'm really trying to wind this down without putting too much, but also not including enough. I will have an epilogue as well, so we're talking at least three more parts here. I am hoping to wrap this up by Chapter 40, but will have to see. Just hang with me, I'll tie all the loose ends up as best I can._

_If there is something unanswered, let me know, I want this to be as complete and concise as humanly possible._

_Thanks everyone…till the next update._

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**Chapter 36: A New Lesson in Living**

Across the meadow and concealed in the shadows, Rachel stood watching as Susan spoke with her brothers. Her eyes were filled with a sense of joy as she regarded the emotion that emanated the reunited family. They all looked to be genuinely happy, even though Susan appeared to be somewhat on edge.

Aslan had not yet appeared, and she imagined that contrary to Susan's happy and expressive face, she must be increasingly worried about that pending conversation. Every so often Rachel could see that Susan's stance had shifted from being that of a grieved and sorrow-filled young woman to that of a strong and confident Narnian monarch.

Rachel smiled as she recalled her first moments in Narnia. She had been initially afraid of what would happen and that she would be left out of the reunions and fun. At the same time, she realized that Tumnus had not left her side and had even gone out of his way to introduce her to the others assembled who had come over and greeted him.

Fox, the Beavers, and Hedgehog had appeared only to disappear once again. Oddly, these were the only names that Rachel could remember hearing. Of course, after greeting several people, whom she had already forgotten the names of, she smiled as she sat back down, her skirt spreading out on the ground as her hands gracefully folded in her lap.

"It truly is beautiful here, like something out of a dream," she whispered under her breath, her words indicating that she thought that Tumnus had walked away and left her alone. She did not think ill of him for doing so, specifically since he had remained by her side for the last hours. She pondered what would happen once she was alone here and this filled her with traces of nervousness.

She continued to stare off in the distance, her thoughts drifting. After some moments of silence, her words still hanging in the air, she jumped when she felt Tumnus' hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said as she turned around to see him standing over her.

"I thought you had left," she said. "For some reason, I figured that you had more pressing matters to tend to than to play the Narnian welcoming committee."

"It has been my pleasure to keep you company," he said.

"Yes, but you probably are very anxious to see Lucy," she said.

"Perhaps, but it was you who helped make all this possible," Carefully, he seated himself on the ground next to her, his hooves stretched out before him and he began to stroke the ends of the scarf that he wore around his neck. "Rachel?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"I don't know, I feel as though so much has happened during the last days," she said. "I didn't ask you before if you were feeling any better, and perhaps I should have."

"I'm quite fine," he said, a cordial smile still on his face.

"Why is it you can walk better here than there?" She asked.

"I never was able to accustom myself to human legs," he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. "I had five years experience with them, but I must admit that it was all rather awkward for me. I could not dance, or jump about as I am able to do here. My movement there was quite limited."

"Yet you went, all the while knowing that it would be hard," she said softly. "Why?"

"I went to your world not knowing what to expect, but finding friends that I shall never forget," he said smiling. "You see, friends do make any journey worthwhile. They also help when things seem a bit chaotic."

"I don't know how much of a help I really was though. You have said that I have done a great deal, but I don't think I did."

"Why not?" He asked.

"I don't know, I only did what I thought was right. You took a far greater risk than I ever could. You went to a place where you may not have fit in, but you acted as though it didn't really matter. When you told me at the monastery about what you had done, I must admit that I didn't fully believe it."

"I could tell," he said. "But why did you help me if my story seemed too hard for you to believe?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "After I left your flat the first time, I was rather confused and frightened. It was there, after I spoke to Bob, that I realized how much you had unconsciously helped me to redefine my faith in people. I never really did trust anyone until meeting you," she said as she regarded the faun. "I know it sounds strange for me to say, but in doing something like this, you gave me an invaluable gift. You showed me that there were good people out there, and that not everyone I would eventually encounter would intend to bring me harm. Sometimes it is the people who are not the easiest to understand who can offer the greatest bits of inspiration."

"You inspired me too, Rachel," he said, his gaze still on the group of people, but he lowered his head after a few moments. "The truth is, I cannot thank you enough for what you did for Susan. By helping her, you also helped me."

"I didn't really do anything out of the ordinary," Rachel insisted. "Besides, seeing Narnia with my own two eyes is worth any perceived sacrifice I could possibly have made."

Tumnus smiled. "I'm glad you are getting to see it, and I'm pleased that Aslan has allowed you the opportunity. I know that he didn't allow Bob the same one."

"That's what I couldn't understand," she said. "Why would he not allow it? Bob did just as much, if not more, than I did."

"He was not yet ready, Daughter of Eve. It was not yet a part of his destiny," Aslan's voice emerged and the two of them turned.

"Aslan," Rachel said with a smile, her head bowing slightly. "I know that I have a lot of questions that I want to ask you but I don't know where to start. I don't know if they're wrong or right or if you'll even indulge me and let me inquire."

"Questions are not wrong, Daughter of Eve," he said, his voice a low purr. "Welcome, child, welcome to Narnia."

Rachel stepped closer to him, her hand stretched out before her and when she felt the silkiness of his mane, she bit down on her lip as the tears caught in her eyes. "Thank you."

Aslan's gaze turned to Tumnus. "You have succeeded in bring both Daughters of Eve into Narnia, Tumnus. I am pleased with the success in your task and you are as one says a hero, a Knight of Narnia, and from this day forth you shall be acknowledged as such."

"Thank you for encouraging me along the way, Aslan," Tumnus whispered, his voice filled with confidence. "I know that without your assistance in the matters I faced, I would never have succeeded in what I had been sent to do. However, I must implore you to reward me in another way, as I am undeserving of Knighthood."

"You have accomplished a great deal, your humility has served you, but I beg to differ my son, for you have exuded the character of a Knight as well as that of a hero," Aslan said. "Never think differently."

"I-I'll try not to," Tumnus whispered, his face flushing to about the same color as the scarf he wore. "What is going to happen now?"

"Peter will come to you both and will inform you of Lucy whereabouts. Once he tells you, then you must go to her. At the same time, Rachel will be shown around Narnia and once Susan has achieved everything that she has been brought here to do, then both of them shall return to the portal. Robert will be waiting for them on the other side."

"Is he OK?" Rachel asked.

"Well, it would depend on how you define OK," Aslan said with a slight chuckle. "He was rather sharp-tongued when we spoke earlier, but between you and me, I think it was because he was nervous. After all, everyone has his or her way of dealing with a confrontation with a lion."

"He got to see you?" Rachel asked.

"Of course, he has much to experience before he will be able to come to Narnia. He knows that now," he explained. "One of the things that he must remember is to treat all creatures no matter from where they come or where they go, with kindness and humility. He does not know everything there is to know about Narnia yet, but he knows enough, and in time, he shall see through a different pair of eyes. You and Susan will show him."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"He must learn that not only must he speak to the revered one with kindness and gentility, but he must attain the ability to speak to all creatures as though they are the revered children of a great Creator. Do you understand?"

"I guess, but Aslan, he's always been kind of 'in your face'. It's been that way since the first day I met him," Rachel giggled. "Did you expect him to react to you in awe when it's not a part of his character to do so?"

Aslan chuckled from deep within his throat. "No, Daughter of Eve, I do not. For him, I am merely a lion. Yet it surprises him that I could speak and his attitude sort of relayed that surprise. Sometimes when people are afraid, they react accordingly."

"Like someone who is afraid of a dog, they try to act tough to keep the fear from showing?" Rachel asked.

"Exactly," Aslan nodded. "But, it would help if when you see him again, you tell him that he should not go looking for me at the London Zoo. The lions there don't speak there, and I'm not just any lion."

"Do you mean to say that you're more than just a lion?" She asked. "I mean; more than the King of Narnia?"

Aslan cocked his head to one side. "It would depend on how you look at things. Robert has a fixed notion in his mind about what is right and good. In your world, it serves each person to maintain beliefs or ideas about that. A talking lion does bring certain ideas to mind, and through that dialogue he will one day understand. Robert is actually no different in his reactions than many people I have met, he simply represents an organized consciousness by who he has become. He must learn as any child learns that there exists even more images and ideals than he can comprehend at the present moment. To you, I am more than just a lion, but how you look upon me is for you alone to decide. If you see me in wonder and awe, then you shall see yourself in that reflection as well. If you see me as something to fear, then that will be how you appear not only in your own eyes, but also in the eyes of another. All of you have faced this at one time or another. The final one who will face it will be Susan."

"It sounds like you're talking in riddles," she said honestly.

"Not necessarily," he shook his head, his mane flowing from this motion. "Rachel, when you return home, think about what I have said to you here, for there exists more meaning in these words than you can imagine."

"So this will help me when I go back?" She asked. "I mean; I have this strange feeling that it will change everything for the better. Yet this is somehow connected to what you have said."

"Yes," Aslan said. "You have a very keen mind, Rachel, and that will balance the wisdom that Robert carries. A friendship is born through the bond of Narnia, and that will enable Susan to continue on her own journey once your time in Narnia has reached an end."

"I'll do my best and try not to let you down, Aslan," she said.

"I'm pleased, I chose well when I sought out your assistance," he responded.

Rachel looked at the faun for a moment, but when she turned back to face him, Aslan was gone. "Why does he come and go so quickly?" She asked.

"That's just his way," Tumnus said with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Aslan is not a tame lion, you know."

"Now you tell me," Rachel looked at him. "Tumnus, did you ever feel afraid of him, like he's going to eat you or something?"

"No," he chuckled. "But I must admit to having been overwhelmed by him a few times. His ways are not always easy for someone to explain or understand, even for those who know him fairly well."

"It must be nice for you to receive such high praise from him, then," she said as she noticed a slight blush still tingeing his cheeks.

"Yes, it deeply honors me to hear him speak to me in this way. When all of this began, I believed that I was doing it for Lucy, but recently, I have come to realize that I didn't just do it for her or Susan; I also did for me. I learned that I too could be a hero."

"You are a hero," Rachel said as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "All you have to do is remember what Bob said when we spoke at the hospital just before coming to Narnia. You are his mentor, you taught him a great deal about humility. Even Aslan said that he must learn humility."

"Yes, from you and Susan," Tumnus said. "What we started must be continued, and that means you must encourage him to continue. But, Bob must also recognize something more that exists in Aslan than to simply what one sees with their own two eyes."

"Like seeing the faun in a man?" she asked.

"Perhaps."

"I learned a similar lesson through you. Bob is smart, he will figure it all out, but has to in his own time," Rachel said rationally.

Before Tumnus could respond to these words; Susan, Peter, and Edmund came running over to them. "Rachel, my brothers were going to show me around a little. Would you like to come along with us?"

Rachel cast a quick glance towards Tumnus who simply nodded. "Go on, it will be fun for you."

"Yes, besides, Tumnus has a few other things he needs to tend to," Peter said quickly as he motioned with his hand in the direction of Lucy's house. "She's at her house and I think it's high time you went to see her. If you don't, then she'll think that I'm not any good at keeping my word."

Tumnus nodded and smiled. "Who am I to say no to a king?" He asked with a wink and got to his hooves. Before he left them, he bowed humbly to each of them and then started to make his way in the direction Peter had indicated.

"We will see you later then?" Susan asked.

"Of course, my Queen," he said and watched as Peter and Edmund led the two women away. He stood for several moments waiting, and when they were gone, he nervously rubbed his hands together.


	38. The End of Tumnus' Sacrifice

_a/n: This chapter ties up a very significant part of the story. Be warned: **It does have romance in it**. I have made this point throughout the story that there is a deep love between Tumnus and Lucy. This story is embodied through a sacrifice that Tumnus makes for Lucy because he loves her. It is the last bit of romance, but it is important. Anyone who has ever been separated from one they love would simply not approve of a simple handshake when these characters come back together after such a long separation. As save the pandas asked, yes, this chapter is the long awaited reunion scene between Tumnus and Lucy. _

_Sorry it has taken me a bit longer to get this latest chapter edited and up. I realized in writing this that all these reunions could drag things out more than I would like. I don't see a big significance in the Rachel / Lucy concept, as that was not really Rachel's purpose in the story. Her role was to help Susan more so than to see Lucy, although one could offer some interesting dynamics about these those two characters and might explain Rachel's willingness to believe Thomas when he told her the truth. I just think that this could really drag things out a little bit too much, thus bordering on redundancy. I have, therefore eluded to it happening in a later chapter, but have not really written anything about it for that reason._

_Now, here's my question, do you want to see this reunion written out? If the majority of my reviewers want to read a scene with Rachel and Lucy, then tell me in your review and I'll write one, but it will be short. If you don't like the idea, tell me that too because I don't want this ending to be a let down from the rest of the story. The reunions I wanted to focus on are centered on either Susan or Tumnus, not really on Rachel or Lucy._

_I have found that there will be (I believe) two more chapters and the Epilogue. I want to thank everyone well in advance of these last postings for their kind words and that the reviews have been just fabulous. _

_Again I'm sorry for the prolonged wait, I really wanted to get this up quicker than I did, but life is a bit hectic here, so I'm trying to get it done today. I hope that this reunion scene far exceeds your expectations. I am actually quite fond of how it turned out.  
_

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**Chapter 37: The End of Tumnus' Sacrifice**

Lucy had been awake for much of the day, but the afternoon seemed to drag out for her. The sky had grown brighter until the colors had given way to a mosaic of purples, pinks, and blues. Dusk was just beginning to fall all around Narnia, and still no Tumnus. Her stomach had started to grumble, thus indicating that she had not eaten anything all day long, yet at that moment, she opted to ignore it. She wanted to see both Susan and Tumnus so desperately, but deep down inside, she knew that she missed Tumnus far more than anyone could imagine. It was no secret, she was counting down the minutes until her beloved would walk through the door.

The more she wished for him to come and relieve her of the boring loneliness that filled her, the more silent and empty the house remained. The soft sounds of the breeze were the only ones to be heard as they wafted through the window and wafted through the delicate lace curtains.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her body still leaning up against the back of the sofa. "I wish he was here," she whispered as she tried to peer between the closed lids. When she eventually opened them again, she realized that she was still alone.

"I've come so close to forgetting you," she whispered to the stillness as she cast a wary glance to the framed picture on the mantle. "So many times, I came close to forgetting who I am and what you mean to me. A dryad would turn his head and make me smile. I would somehow feel drawn into his magic. Sometimes I couldn't help myself, yet, the one who really held some sort of magic over me is the one I haven't seen in such a dreadfully long time. I wanted to believe that he would come back to me, but I don't know if I can unless he comes back very soon." She shook her head as the tears were finally allowed to stream down her face. "Where are you? Aslan promised me that you'd come back, but you're not here, have you forgotten me?"

As her words filled the emptiness of the cottage, she bit down on her lip. Standing up, she went over to the blinds that covered the windows and pulled them down so that they would cover the glass, thus lulling the room into darkness. She tossed her shoes aside and went back over to the sofa and laid down amidst the cushions. Shifting her weight, she eventually closed her eyes. Her feet now snuggled beneath the folds of her dress. Turning to her side, she lay with her head up against one of her arms while her other draped itself lazily over her torso.

As she felt the silkiness of her hair draped over her face, she did nothing to keep the tresses from brushing against the floor. Nothing was right without Tumnus, her thoughts continued as she allowed her eyes to lazily close and once again, she drifted off to sleep.

Lucy had forgotten that in one corner of the room, the tea she had painstakingly prepared had gone cold, the fumes of it eventually dying off as she remained unmoving on the sofa.

* * *

Back at the meadow, Tumnus watched as Susan, Rachel, Edmund and Peter left him standing alone. He remained motionless for several minutes and then found his voice and began to speak. "Lucy," he whispered under his breath. "I've finally found my way back to you." He slowly began to walk in the direction of the house, all the while his thoughts entirely focused on her. 

He had promised that he would return home with Susan, and now that he had, all that was left for him to do was to go and be reunited with his Lucy. Nervously, he continued to walk through the thicket in the direction of her small house.

I want to see you so badly it hurts, he thought as a dull ache filled his chest and tears caught in the corners of his eyes. He remembered the sadness that had encased both of them on the day of his departure. Now, his only intention was to return to her side, tell her that everything was behind them, and they would be together again.

Reaching the house, he was suddenly reminded of the simplicity of this beautiful place. Flowers grew all around and his eyes took in the colors that surrounded it. Above him the sky seemed to compliment the house, thus giving it a very rustic and warm feeling. Nothing physically had changed in Narnia, but he could not help but wonder if Lucy had or if she was the same loving person he had left behind.

The state of the house seemed to leave him rather speechless because it was just as he remembered. How could that be? He pondered as he thought about how most of the places went through a certain amount of change over time. Ironically, Lucy's house still looked the same. The warm and inviting sense about the place somehow could draw the weariest of souls in.

His thoughts shifted as concern overwhelmed him. Would Lucy still love me as I do her? He asked himself as he reached the window and tried to peer inside for some sort of hint or indication. Seeing nothing except the lowered blind, he backed slowly away from the window, approached the front door, and lightly knocked.

As he heard the hollow sound of his fist against the wood, he waited as the minutes slowly ticked by. He tapped again, but found himself growing insistent when she did not answer the door. Silently, he opened the door and stuck his head around it. "Lucy?" He whispered her name, the single word now hanging lazily in the air. "Where are you?"

He came into the house, his hooves loudly tapping against the floor and he had to remind himself that he was a faun once again and should walk more gently. Regardless of this, he realized that his hooves against the marble floor had somehow become a welcomed sound to him. Aside from that, the house was silent. He made his way slowly through the room, his eyes scanning the area until he abruptly stopped, his body now leaning up against the back of the sofa.

Lowering his head, he could see her stretched out across it, her skirts draped over it, her eyes closed. One arm was cushioned beneath her head while the other hung limply down over her dress. The hair that covered her head was tousled and hung loosely hanging down over her face. He smiled when he realized that he could barely see her from beneath it.

He raised his head for several moments and took in the rest of the room. It all looked very nice, yet it also felt very strange to him. Internally, the house had changed only slightly since he had left Narnia. He smiled despite himself when he recognized that Lucy had his portrait up on the mantle. This caused his heart to beat loudly in his chest, his throat dry as he realized that she had not forgotten him. His greatest fear would not be realized.

He walked slowly around the sofa and found himself squeezing between the sofa and the table that had been placed before it. Moving it slightly he managed to shift his weight so that he would be able to sit (rather uncomfortably) on the floor. He inhaled slowly as he tried to shift his weight so that he could brush her hair out from in front of her face. Without warning, he suddenly felt her hand grasping his own and holding it against one side of her face.

"Lucy," he whispered, but after a moment, it fell away. For several moments, he stared down at her face and noticed that she had done all of this in her sleep.

He raised his head for a moment and continued to take in the room. There were more flowers in the room than he could remember. He eventually concluded that she had no doubt placed these things in the room as a way of cheering herself up.

He reached for her hand and carefully laced his fingers with hers. "Lucy, my dearest, I have returned," he whispered, his eyes closing ever so slightly, but through the half closed lids, he could still take in her sleeping form. Opening his eyes fully once again, he reached over and took a lock of her hair in between his fingers. As with his initial contact, this simple movement neither woke her nor caused her to stir.

She must be so dreadfully tired, he thought to himself as he stared down at her. He did not wish to wake her, but he also wanted nothing more than to speak with her. Instead, he took a deep breath and recognized the scent of the familiar lilac soap that she had always used.

"Oh Lucy," he whispered. "How I've missed you. I remember that day you came back to me, that day that Aslan woke me from my dreamless slumber and you were there catching me as I fell. To see you standing there was very much like a dream for me. I wanted to hold you so tightly in my arms and never let go. I never understood what it meant until Aslan sent me to Spare Oom and we were separated for such a long time." He licked his dry lips. "How I remember, even to this day." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Lucy, I don't ever want to ever leave you again."

He continued to hold her hand, his fingers brushing over her limp hand and he smiled. "You sleep like a rock," he whispered as he noticed a small smile gracing her lips. Finally, not able to take much more, he released her hand and touched her face. "Wake up dearest, please, there's so much for me to tell you."

As these soft words emerged, Lucy shifted and slowly opened her eyes. Several moments passed and she could feel her eyes becoming once more accustomed to the lighting of her sitting room. "Tumnus?" She whispered, her eyes filling with tears as she reached a hesitant hand out to him. As she touched his cheek, she felt his hand grasping hers "You've come back to me, at last!" She slowly sat up, her arms wrapping around him and holding him as though she would never let go. "You're not a dream, you're real, and you've come home."

"Yes, Lucy, I've come home to stay," he whispered emotionally.

As she felt the tears streaming down over her cheeks, she raised her head and looked at him, her lips a mere centimeter from his. "I've missed you."

"Yes, I missed you terribly," he whispered, his voice cracking as he felt her fingers digging into the curls that covered the back of his head, her face now buried against his shoulder.

They remained in each other's arms for several moments, her arms holding onto him as the tears streamed down over both of their faces. "Don't ever leave me again," she whispered. "I thought I had lost a part of myself when you went away."

"Lucy, my Lucy…" he whispered as his eyes closed. "I did what I promised to do…I brought Susan back to Narnia."

"I never doubted you, Tumnus," she said as she finally raised her head. "I just wish that there could have been another way for her to come home without you having to leave. It must have been so dreadful."

He brushed his hand against her cheek and smiled. "Actually, it was not all that bad, I made some new friends and that helped me to cope at least a little. I missed you so very much though. At first it was hard for me to remember Narnia, I had initially forgotten so much, and then near the end, I was able to recall everything. When I told Susan who I was and where I came from, I knew that my time there was drawing to a close and it made me happy. My heart yearned to be with you, to hold you, and never let go. My love for you is so great, Lucy Pevensie, so great that I never realized how vast it was until I was in Spare Oom and living as a Son of Adam."

"You really did?" She asked. "Did you like it?"

"Not as much as I had once thought. You see, I'm quite grateful for being what I am; a stammering, stuttering faun," he smiled, the tears glistening his eyes. "I used to wonder what it would be like to be like you, to have feet and toes and to walk beside you as a man would. But during my time there, I felt as though there was a part of me that was somehow separated from him."

"You told me so many years ago that you would wish for it though," Lucy said.

"Yes, but now I cannot say that I would be happy being something other than what I am. Lucy, what I am doesn't take away from the fact that I love you, but as a faun, I can do the things that I love, like run and dance. As a Son of Adam I could do none of those things. I had to wear suits and ties and felt as though I was not quite myself. I walked with a limp and felt myself an oddity among men. I had to pretend that I belonged in Spare Oom, but I never truly did. When I was transformed back into myself, I realized that I am so very happy being what I am and that I would never want to be anything else."

"I wouldn't want you to be anything else either," she said honestly. "You're my Tumnus."

"The important thing is I didn't come home alone, I brought two very special young women with me. One is your sister, the other is Rachel Friedman, do you remember her?" He asked.

"Oh yes, I do, she was my classmate and we talked endlessly about Narnia, you, and even Aslan. She knew that I loved you, and she was the only one who could understand how it felt to love someone and not feel right in that love. Did you really meet her?" Lucy looked at him and when she saw him nodding, she smiled, her eyes now filled with joy. "Tell me everything that happened and don't leave out one single detail."

"That would take quite some time," he said.

"We've got all the time in the world, my dearest," she said as they both got comfortable on the sofa and Tumnus began to tell of his adventures.

* * *

It was very early the following morning when he had finished outlining everything that had happened during the course of his adventures. 

As he stopped speaking, Lucy yawned. "Sorry, I guess we've been speaking for quite a while," she said as she glanced towards the windows. The shades were still pulled down, but they could both see that it was still dark outside. He had moved during the time he had spoken and now he sat beside her on the couch, his arm draped around her shoulder, the other holding her hand.

"There's still one thing I cannot understand," he said. "Why weren't you at the celebration?"

"I wanted to be," Lucy said softly. "But, Aslan came to me just before breakfast and asked me to stay home today. He told me that you would be coming home with Susan. He also said that you were in the process of talking to her about everything that happened and that she was going to return with you. The condition that he outlined was that she was not going to be able to see me until after she sees him. I don't know why he wanted this, but I agreed and spent the day trying to make the time pass by more quickly. I guess I had fallen asleep because it seemed a better option to pacing. Peter had come by and promised that he would make sure you knew where I was so that you could come find me. I guess he knew that I wanted to see you more than anything."

"More than Susan?" He asked softly.

"Yes, and I know that that seems selfish to say, but it's the truth. You spent the last three hundred years in England and I was here alone and miserable. I had to try and make the best of it, but I missed you so much, and sometimes at night I would have dreams about you and they comforted me when I was sad. I love Susan, she's my sister, but my wanting her to come back to Narnia was more for her than it was for me. I figured that she could live out her life there and be happy. My dreams kept telling me that she was not happy, and that sometimes I could sense that she was in danger."

"She was," Tumnus said. "Delores Davenport was a dangerous woman, she had been granted power and seemed to be taking advantage of that power. Many compared her to the White Witch."

"She was, if she was using her power to hurt others. You told me that you had been taken in her pay because you were afraid," Lucy said. "But were you afraid of that woman?"

"I was more afraid for Susan than I was for myself. Internally, I knew that she had no power over me because I wouldn't grant it. When I met you that first day, you showed me that I didn't need to allow the witch to have power over me either, it was the very same lesson."

"That was heroic," Lucy said.

"No, it was fear. I was afraid, but I realized that I was more afraid for you than I was for myself, and I think the same thing happened with Susan. I was very much afraid that she would die in that hospital alone and isolated."

"Yet you nearly died there," Lucy whispered. "Tumnus, tell me the truth, what would have happened to you if you had died in Spare Oom?"

"I would have returned to Narnia, but not as myself," he said softly. "I would have come home as a Son of Adam."

"And you didn't want that?" Lucy asked.

"No, it's terribly selfish of me to say, but I would never have wanted that," he said as he took her hand in his and squeezed it. "You see, as Thomas Jenkins, I was able to make a difference there, but had I returned to Narnia in that guise, I wonder if you would have recognized or even accepted me. It was one of the risks I had to take. I knew that you had grew to love me as a faun, and if I was anything else, then I did not know if you could even learn to love me in the same way."

"I would have, but I'm glad that you are in a state that you are happy with," she whispered as she reached over and touched his face. "You're truly wonderful."

Blushing, he looked at her. "Lucy, please tell me, what else happened when Aslan came to see you?"

"I was having some sort of dialogue with myself and kept saying that I would not believe that this was over until I could see it with my own eyes," she began. "After that, a voice emerged from behind me and I turned around and saw Aslan standing in the room."

"He has a strange way of coming in when you have your back turned, doesn't he?" Tumnus asked with a gentle smile.

"Yes," Lucy said. "I always like seeing him, but I sometimes wish he had a bell around his neck to announce his arrival."

"I don't think he would like that at all," Tumnus said with a soft chuckle. "I remember the day he came and encouraged me when I was really not quite sure if I was going to succeed in bringing Susan back. I was very grateful when he did tell me that he was watching over me, and somehow that gave me courage."

Lucy took a deep breath. "When he spoke to me, it was almost as though he somehow knew that I was being stubborn and wouldn't believe anything until I saw it with my own two eyes. I guess he could tell that I was rather skeptical, but I was surprised because of his sudden appearance." She took a deep breath. "After he made that request of me, I looked at him and said that I had spent the last three hundred years alone and that one more day probably didn't matter that much. Of course I was probably lying to myself because it made a great deal of difference to me, it was like having sweets hanging in front of my face and then reaching out and having them pulled away."

"What else did he say to you?" He asked.

"He told me that he understood how I felt, and that he knew that the request was rather strange for me. That wasn't even the half of it, though. I was so angry that he wanted to keep me out of whatever it was going to happen. I told him that the least he could do was make it possible for me to see you. He finally said that I must wait for you to come back to me."

Biting down on her lip, she looked at him. "Tumnus, I told him that I missed you and that I loved you so much. I didn't really realize how much until you were gone and I was waking up by myself each morning. The years passed and I somehow started to forget. I found this portrait somewhere, either in your cave or at Cair Paravel and brought it here. I wanted to have it with me everyday so that I wouldn't forget you. While everyone was dating and getting married; I sat here waiting for you to come home. It was rather like Mum when our father went away to war. I waited and waited and then he said that I should stay home. I told him that it was unfair and that I should not have to forego a reunion with you for all of this…" her words faded and she could feel that the faun's lips were now covering hers in a gentle kiss.

As it ended, she smiled through her tears as he touched her face. "It's over now, you mustn't worry about that anymore. I'm here with you, and I won't ever leave you again. A love like ours is perhaps different, but it is very real."

"You sacrificed everything for me," she said softly.

"I'd do it again if I had to," he said sincerely.

"Please don't, you've already shown me in all the ways that matter that you love me, and that's enough," she said.

"Well, at the very least, I could finally show myself that in some strange way, I could be somewhat heroic."

"Somewhat?" She whispered skeptically. "That was a bit more than just somewhat, don't you think?"

The faun smiled and nodded. "Perhaps, but I feel quite humbled about it. This experience gave me the sense that I was capable of doing something special for another." He touched her face. "I think however, we should both go and get some sleep. We have spoken much of the night and I must admit I am quite fatigued."

She nodded as he got to his hooves and offered her his hands. "You're not leaving to go back to your cave, are you?"

"Actually, I can well imagine that it must be presently full of dust and cobwebs," he said smiling shyly. "Would it be an imposition on you if I were to stay here for a day or two until I am able to get it properly tended to?"

Lucy looked at him and nodded. "I was hoping that you would ask me that."

As the two of them stood up, Lucy wrapped her arm around his shoulder and when she felt his arm wrapping around her as well, she turned and looked up at him. "Thank you for all that you've done…just please promise me one more thing, Tumnus?"

"What would you wish of me, my love?" He whispered.

"The next time Aslan comes to us and makes a suggestion about someone leaving for three hundred years, please don't volunteer for it. I want you to keep your promise that you will stay here with me and not leave again," she whispered as she buried her face against him. "I may be Lucy the Valiant, but Tumnus, I realized that during the time that you were away, I was only a shadow of what I could be when you are nearby. Do you promise that you will not leave me again?"

Instead of immediately speaking, he kissed her gently. "I promise," he whispered as he withdrew from her and smiled. "I would be crazy to leave." He raised his arm and watched as she accepted it and together they left the sitting room.


	39. Taking Aim at a Target

_This is the introduction to the final reunion scene. Since everyone has pretty much said that there should not be a scene between Rachel and Lucy, I have opted to not use it at all and will go with the concepts that are presently written in the latter chapters. There are two more chapters after this one and then an epilogue. I think that this story is pretty much winding down at a speed that I can feel comfortable with. I plan to write a new epic story once this one is finished and it will **not** be a sequel. Once this story is over it's done with and I will not fall into the trap that a lot of writers do and try to write some sort of sequel story. I've seen sequals done in the past and they don't measure quality wise with the original story. _

_As I said before I do love the dynamics of Lucy and Tumnus friendship (or relationship if you will indulge me) so the next story will be centered on them more so than this one was. I haven't come up with a title yet although the story is going to be an alternate universe piece. That is it will not be in exact progression of the CS Lewis writings, but will have some interesting twists to it that will not be a 'repeating of the story' that many people seem attracted to writing about. I hope that will bring you into the story and that it will be as successful as this one has been._

_Not much else left to say, so I will give you the latest installment and hope you enjoy it. It's a couple of pages shorter than the last one, but it is building up to the next chapter…which I will say is one many readers have been anticipating. Enjoy!  
_

* * *

**Chapter 38: Taking Aim at a Target**

Several hours after Lucy and Tumnus had retired, Susan opened her eyes and looked around the room where she was sleeping. The memories of the night before were completely overwhelming. She had attended a wonderful party. Her brothers had gone out of their way to make her feel at home once again. The celebration lasted until the wee hours of the morning when she finally decided to retire to her quarters and get some much needed rest.

As she shoved the blankets aside, she sat up in bed and took in the room. Her memories had come back to her by leaps and bounds. It almost felt as though Narnia had always existed and she had been there forever. From her position, she reached for her dressing gown and pulled it on as she swung her legs around to the side of the bed and managed to get to her feet.

She was alone, and for whatever reason, she liked it. Perhaps, having spent the last six months of her life being under scrutiny had more to do with her enjoying this solitude than she would have liked to admit. Right now, after having one person after the other greeting her and welcoming her home, she really enjoyed the time to herself. She had so many thoughts whirling about in her mind at this moment, that pending conversation seemed to have succeeded in distracting and causing her mental disorder.

Contrary to that, it had actually been a wonderful night. She had danced with friends and strangers, one song melting into another, her reunion with her family and the Professor being emotional, but also healing. Finding peace with Helen after such a long time was the greatest blessing that Susan could imagine, and hearing her mother say those two simple words to her made Susan feel as though the traumas of the past could finally be laid to rest.

Smiling freely, she rubbed her face, the tiredness giving way to a new alertness that she thought was gone. Narnia still felt more like a dream than a reality, but the spiritual freedom she felt was all too real. A good night's rest added to the new aliveness that she felt straight through to the core of her being. This made Susan feel as though she could overcome just about anything. Yet, as she contemplated this, she still was not sure because her eventual reunion with Aslan still loomed in the future. At the present moment, she was simply not sure about whether or not she would be able to meet him at all or what she would say when she eventually did.

She crawled slowly off the bed and walked over to the window. With a steady hand, she reached out and pushed the curtains aside. As the light from outside filtered into the room, her eyes took a moment to adjust before taking in the sunny day and the blue sky that beckoned her. Shifting her gaze, she could see that a courtyard spread out before her and she yearned to go outside and take in these surroundings. I wonder if the targets still lie beyond the garden, she pondered as she turned away from the window and ran her hand through her hair.

Slowly, she walked over to the large wardrobe situated on one side of the room and selected among the many dresses one to wear. Somehow, she could remember every single dress that hung there from her days as Queen of Narnia. "I guess it's just the same as it had been before," she whispered to herself as she delicately touched the soft fabric.

She pulled a dress from the closet and got dressed. It came as a surprise that the dress fit to perfection, but disregarding the how's and why's, she grabbed her bow and arrows before heading for the door. Opening it slowly, she peered from around it and noticed that the corridor was empty. She stepped out into the hallway and started to make her way down it, all the while recognizing small subtleties that set it apart in her mind. "This is the first time in months that I have actually walked somewhere without having someone take or escort me there," she mused all the while recognizing a strange feeling of freedom washing over her. As she reached the door at the end of the hall, she pulled it open and descended the staircase.

At the base of the stairs, she made her way towards a second door that would lead out into the spacious garden. Since the castle was still quiet, Susan figured that it would be some hours before breakfast would be served and she thrived on the chance to have these few precious moments to herself.

She walked through the garden, the early morning breeze wafting through her short cropped hair. She shook her head as she felt the hair swirling around her face. "It's so beautiful here," she said softly, her voice drifting to the heavens.

Rounding a corner, she could see the targets that were placed on the opposite end of the open courtyard. For some reason, she could recall the day when she stood in the recreation room at the hospital and had started to practice. The memories and the reality of the moment seemed to mesh together and she smiled. Whenever she had practiced there, her hands had been empty, and now she could feel the strap from the holster she wore hanging from her shoulder. She realized as she was reaching for an arrow and touching the feathered end that this was real; she was no longer dreaming.

She moved her hand until she felt the familiar bow and gently pulled it from its holder. Running her hands across the smooth surface of it, a question suddenly filled her mind and she found herself speaking softly to the stillness.

"Will I actually remember how to do this?" She asked, her question somehow looming in the air. "I did tell Bob that I could, but now I don't know anymore."

"Generally one doesn't forget how to shoot once they have learned," a voice emerged thus answering her question and she turned around to see that Oreius was standing several meters away from her. The centaur had been watching her since she had arrived and now he stood, his arms crossed over his chest. As she made eye contact with him, she could feel an almost uncanny strength emanating him.

"I don't know if I can do this, General Oreius," she said, thus addressing him formally.

"Just give it a try, Your Majesty. You will never know how much you can do until you try," he said as he lowered his folded arms.

"It's strange, something compelled me to come out here today and see if I could actually do this. I don't know how much time I have left in Narnia, perhaps days, or weeks, or even hours. Aslan could very easily send me back today or I could stay for five years and really find something here. I don't know the answer to that anymore than I know if this will merit any sort of success. I tried to do this some time back when I was in the hospital and maybe, all the while, I was trying to remember Narnia and my friends through it," she admitted. "I didn't realize until last night just how many friends I truly have here."

"No one ever really knows, but I can tell you that no one forgot you," he said as he reached for one of her hands. "You were always on everyone's mind, Queen Susan."

"But I did forget about you, Oreius" she whispered. "You were my best friend here. We shared many wonderful conversations with one another, and when I got home, I felt as though I had forgotten everything, even the good things that happened. I can't explain it, but I was scared, and yet, I knew that I had no reason to be afraid."

"I know that it must not have been very easy for you. What I do know is that sometimes things happen and we cannot control them," he said. "But, I don't think that you totally forgot about Narnia. Even if you did, sometimes the best thing about forgetting something is how you feel when you remember it once again."

"But what if I don't remember how to do this?" She asked, her gaze returning to the bow and arrows.

"Look, Susan, you're not going to know the answer to that question until you draw that bow and shoot the arrow," he said. "You might just surprise yourself when you do."

Susan picked an arrow out of the sheath and looked down at it. "Maybe you should back up, I might miss."

"No you won't, just try it and don't torture yourself with these stalling tactics," he said with an almost bemused looking smile on his face.

Susan looked down at the bow that she had been stroking. "I'll try, but don't be too disappointed in me if I am not as good as you may have surmised."

"I won't," he said. "Now try, it's important for you, and maybe it will help when you speak to Aslan."

"He hasn't been around since I got back. I don't even know if or when I will see him," Susan said.

"You're afraid," he affirmed with a slow nod.

"Yes, I am," she said. "Wouldn't you be?"

The centaur shook his head. "I have no reason to fear him, and neither do you. He brought you to Narnia, Susan. His meaning for that is love. Don't forget, he does care, otherwise he would not have made any of this possible."

"I always thought that it was Tumnus and Lucy that made this happen," Susan said.

"No, Aslan was the one who decided. Neither Tumnus nor Lucy could have made this possible without his approval or willingness," Oreius said as he shook his head once again.

"Perhaps it is foolish of me to be afraid, but I am. I have had dreams about him, scary dreams where I have literally felt swallowed up in his presence. What should I say to him when I do see him? How should I carry myself?"

"Just speak from your heart and try not to be afraid," he said.

"That's easier said then done," Susan said. "Oreius, have you ever been afraid of Aslan? I know you're not now, but in the past."

"When I was young, yes, I experienced fear," he said. "It is like when you step outside and see the sun for the first time. You don't know what it is but yet you sense that you are in the presence of greatness. Tell me this, would greatness ever bring you here with the intention of harming you?"

"I don't think so. It's just that I keep remembering those dreams I had and trying to block them out of my mind is not easy," she said. "I've never felt this insecure before."

"Maybe that's what you need to understand about yourself," he said as he pointed to the bow and arrow. "Now try to block that out of your mind and take the first step."

"Is this really a step?" She asked.

"Everything you do in Narnia is a step," Oreius said. "Now, shoot."

Susan took the arrow and placed it properly against the bow. "Well, so far, so good," she said as she adjusted it and aimed at the target. As she released it, she watched with surprise as the arrow hit the target squarely in the bull's-eye. She lowered the bow and looked at Oreius. "You were right."

"Yes, and I think that now it is time for you to remember that lesson when you go and speak with Aslan," he said and pointed.

Susan turned and looked off in the distance. Standing several meters away from them, Aslan stood, the lion now unmoving, but his golden eyes were on the two of them. "I may have been able to shoot an arrow, Oreius, but I still don't know what to say to him."

"Then let him speak first," Oreius said. "He cares for you, if all of this does not show it, then I cannot do anything else to help you. You have been given something very profound, Your Majesty. Not very many adult humans have been to Narnia and back again. Aslan has made everything possible as a way to help you find closure. Let him know that you are aware of what has happened and of what he has done."

Susan nodded and bit down on her lip. "I'm scared."

"I know, but this is something that you must do on your own," he said. "Here, give me your bow and arrows, and I'll take them back to the castle."

Susan handed him the objects and watched as he trotted away. She turned back to face Aslan and noticed that he had moved and was now standing less than a meter from her. She rubbed her hands together and slowly approached him, her head humbly lowered.


	40. In His Presence

_a/n: In lieu of some of the notes I have received about this story, specifically, this chapter, I think it is up to me to edit the notes and say what is actually in my profile, but this time instead of being nice, I'm just going to be blunt and to the point!_

_**I do not write or believe in the allegorical Narnia! I have said this countless times, reminding people that I simply don't buy it! Yet some people don't seem to get the hint. My writing, is entirely based on my new thought interpretation of these stories. This is not going to change no matter how much people try to insist upon it. To me; Aslan is not Jesus, Aslan is Aslan, thus imperfect. He is a fictional character from a group of children's books that I read growing up. I never saw the allegory as a child, and I certainly do not see it today as a woman well into her 30's. I will not push my views onto other people, but that also means that I should not have to put up with people coming in and trying to impose their views on me with regards to what I write. I don't push an agenda with my stories, I simply write them as they are. Bluntly put, if you don't like it, then you don't have to read it.**_

_**I have been writing this story for the last six months, I have put more time and effort into it than most people would for a fan fiction and as far as I'm concerned, no one here has the right or authority to tell me what interpretation of the original I should use with my work. I have said this when the romance elements came in and now I am repeating these very same words regarding my presentation of these characters or actions. As far as I'm concerned; if you want your interpretations presented in a story, then go write one yourself, don't try to impose them on me.**_

_It may seem rude, but that's precisely how I feel about it, and yes I do take offense._

_OK, now that I have gotten that off my chest, I shall move on._

_This is one of the last reunions. Susan's reunion with her sister remains and that will be done in the next chapter. I hope that this is what you anticipated with these two characters. _

_As I wrote above, in my blunt and annoyed message, my interpretation of how I think Aslan would behave if faced with this situation is a bit different than most people might perceive. Since the question of 'perfection' may enter into it, I want to clarify that before you start reading, you understand that these are just characters, not actual people. Since I don't believe in the allegory, I must elude to the idea that Aslan is not perfect. I wanted to make that point clear because in CS Lewis' work, he said at the end of 'Prince Caspian' that Peter and Susan would not come back to Narnia but seemed to imply that Lucy and Edmund would. I didn't want to write that Susan miscalculated everything or make her feelings out to be 'wrong'. I wanted Aslan to be intelligent enough to take responsibility for the things he may have said and the impact that these words left on another. _

_This issue was the reason I wrote this story to begin with. Now, we all know what happens at the end of 'The Last Battle', and I pondered why it was that Aslan would say 'never', if he did not mean 'never'. I know that this is picking nits with Mr. Lewis' original and that we all have our own interpretations for it, but it is a fact that these words were spoken in the books. I found it to be rather inconsistent with the characters being brought back into Narnia at the very end of 'The Last Battle'. Why didn't he just not tell Peter and Susan that bit regarding 'never' and let them live out their lives with the thoughts of one day returning? I know that most people ignore that, but I seriously cannot. This particular inconsistency is something that really bothered me. _

_The other issue is that I didn't want to be over-dramatic with this part. One of the biggest problems with writing a story like this is trying to keep a good balance between emotions and facts. I don't see Susan at this point of being overly scared, emotional, or skittish about talking to him. She knew it was coming and I wanted to prepare her so that she would be ready when it happened. _

_I further believe that given these concepts, this chapter turned out to be quite good, but I'll let you guys be the judge of that. I will admit that I'm so ready, as a writer to get this done and start on something new. That's generally the good thing about writing a story to completion. The next epic story will be a bit different than this one, but I hope that you'll stick around for it at any rate._

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**Chapter 39: In His Presence**

"Aslan," Susan spoke as she felt a lump catching in her throat. As she reached him, an aching sensation filled her and she waited for him to speak. She half expected him to react to her as depicted in her dreams, but he did not. Instead he remained standing, the wind blowing gently through his mane and his eyes lovingly regarding her.

"Welcome home, Susan, Daughter of Eve," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "Come closer to me, Child, don't be afraid. No harm will come to you."

Susan took a stiff, but hesitant step forward. "I am a little bit scared," she managed, her voice emerging huskier than she anticipated. "Perhaps it is foolish of me," she offered him a brave smile. "I have had dreams about you, really terrible dreams." She shook her head as she tried to block out the images that seemed to penetrate her mind.

"What sort of dreams?" He asked, but something in his words seemed to indicate his already knowing the answer.

"I remembered one where I was sitting on a mountain looking up at the clouds and trying to make pictures out of them. I used to do that with my mother before Lucy was born. The sky suddenly went a murky gray color and then it turned into you and I backed away thinking that you were going to swallow me up. These images scared me and now I don't know what to say or do."

"It is scary," he began, and these words made her raise her head in surprise. "Yes, it does surprise you that I acknowledge how frightening such steps can be. Yet, I want you to understand that I was in your dreams, not as a means to frighten or scare you, but because I wanted to reach you. I wanted to help you to remember Narnia. Perhaps it was not the best option for me to infiltrate your thoughts and mind as I had done, but I wanted you to remember. I cannot help but wish that you had told me what was in your heart all those years ago. It could have saved all of us a great deal of heartache, and I would have allowed you once more adventure had you told me what you truly felt."

"Y-you would have?" Susan asked.

"Yes, I knew that my words had saddened both you and Peter. The difference is, Peter accepted them in one way and you in another. That day when I told you; I could recall how you wanted to throw a rock at me."

"Y-you knew about that?" She asked.

"I knew," he said with a slow nod. "I'm quite glad that you did not give in to that temptation. Now tell me in your own words what you should have told me back then."

Susan lowered her head all the while not sure if he really was serious or if he was trying to mock her. She bit down on her lip and released a haggard breath. "I didn't want to grow up, Aslan. I wanted to remain a child, like Lucy and Edmund. I was expected to be the grown up at home, and then here in Narnia." Susan said softly, the saltiness of her tears beginning to sting her eyes. She closed them for several moments as a stream of moisture escaped and left their trail along the contours of her face. She swallowed as she continued to speak, her voice cracking. "I have spent most of my life regretting what I didn't do. I asked myself why couldn't I measure up and be something that I wasn't. I wanted to be something like Peter who was always so strong and handled things without fear. I couldn't do it, I was scared and felt rejected."

"I realize that now," he said. "I knew what was happening after you had left Narnia and was no longer connected to it. I also knew that a deep sadness permeated this place after you had left."

"Were you sad because I was gone?" She asked as she raised her head and looked at him. Once he wordlessly nodded, she spoke once again. "Aslan…am I still the person you remember?"

"Yes, you are still 'Susan the Gentle'," he said. "You never stopped being a Queen of Narnia, even when you were not emotionally or physically attached to it. When I told you that you could no longer come back into Narnia, I wanted you to accustom yourself to living in your world and discovering the wonders that existed there. I wanted you to see the beauty that you are and that you had the potential of becoming something rather extraordinary. Before you could ever fully see it in Narnia, you needed to see it there as well. I believed at the time when I told you these things that you were ready, but even I can be mistaken in that regard. I can see many things, Child, but I cannot see into your mind. I could not see the heartache and pain that you carried from that moment when I talked to you and Peter on the hillside. All that I was capable of doing was ensuring you protection and assistance once you had taken the option of sharing your heartfelt feelings with me. Never is a very long time, Susan and when your time does come, as it shall one day, we will have an eternity together. I will promise you that, but I still must make a request of you that only you can fulfill."

"What is that?" She asked.

"I want you to remember that no matter what happens in your life, you will come back to Narnia when those tasks have been completed," he said.

"You would still want me here?" She whispered. "Even after all the trouble I've caused?"

"You have caused me no trouble," he said gently. "You made me worry, but the trouble emerged because I do not always know or fully realize what truly lies in the heart of a young girl. When you first came into Narnia, you had come to us from a place where war was your only reality, your family was torn apart, your father at war, your mother faced with the task of raising four children during such a time. Then you stepped into another place in another time and instead of finding a release or a place of joy, you found yourself once more embodied in a war. This was much stranger and harder for you to understand. You saw all things as a sort of parallel and perhaps they were. Then you tried to accept and face those things in the very same way. Your family saw it, but I did not as my reality is purely what exists in Narnia. Susan, your realities exited in both places, so your perceptions were even broader than my own."

"I didn't know what to do, Aslan," she said softly. "I wanted to please you and I didn't know how. My mother wanted me to be the adult and take care of everyone and everything. Then you came along and basically accused me of becoming exactly what my family expected. I felt as though I stood between two chairs and was being pulled in two different directions. I wanted everyone to be happy with me, so I allowed all of these things to happen. Yet, every time I looked at myself, I realized that I had no true idea of who I was or where I was going. The makeup and the dance cards were the only way I could continue playing that role and pretending that I was happy when I truly wasn't. I felt empty all the time, empty and lost in this hellish nightmare."

"I realize that now, Daughter of Eve," he said.

"Everything hurt so badly, I have felt empty for so long, and when I suddenly remembered how you said that I could never come back, I guess it all made sense to me. I was devastated and tried to forget Narnia because I couldn't accept the rejection I felt." She took a deep breath and sank to her knees. "I just wanted to come home, but I was scared to even try because deep down inside I truly despised what I had become. I realized later that it was too late. I had done everything wrong and you were probably as disappointed in me as I was in myself."

Aslan came closer to her and rested his head against the top of her head. "I was never disappointed in you, Susan, I love you."

"Y-you do?" She asked and for a split second the young woman sounded more like a child than an adult.

"Of course I do, it was your tears that touched me when I was sacrificed at the Stone Table. It was your courage that saved many lives and your gentle nature that gave you that name, 'Queen Susan the Gentle'. It was your love that helped make Narnia the paradise that it was throughout the Golden Age. You were there and you learned that even death could be reversed, mistakes could be altered and forgiven," he said. "I don't just mean your own flaws in judgment, I mean all things that were later construed as being mistakes."

"You mean, you forgive me?" She asked.

He nodded. "If you will forgive me."

"But Aslan, you're perfect in every way, y-you don't make mistakes or even need forgiveness," she whispered.

"No, that is not accurate, I do err now and again," Aslan began as he nodded in sad acknowledgement. "You see, a true king always knows when he has made a mistake. Think about it, dear one, as it would be overtly arrogant of me to say I have made none. It was, after all, my actions that hurt and left you in this state. Now tell me, is it not right for me to seek forgiveness when it was I who hurt you? It was also my actions that assisted in the act of pushing you away from Narnia?"

Susan looked at him. "I don't know. I have a hard time thinking that you have done anything to hurt me."

"But I have," he said simply. "And I want you to tell me that I have just as you told your mother what her actions had done to you. Tell me that you are angry with me, that you were hurt by me, that I turned away from you and made you feel less than beautiful. It is the only way that you will find healing and from there we can salvage our friendship."

"You left me alone," she whispered, her voice filled with hurt. "You were never there for me when I needed you. I tried to please you, to do what you expected or wished of me, but when you told me that, it was as though you hated me. I wanted to make you happy, to be the person that you could be pleased with. But, when you told me that, I felt as though you had pushed me away and that I was no longer a part of Narnia." As her words emerged, her voice became louder and louder until she felt the agony spilling from her. "Why did you leave me? I needed you and you left me alone."

"No, dear one, I was with you every step of the way," he said. "It was me who approved Tumnus' idea to venture into your world and find you. Once he did, I knew beyond any doubt that he was going to bring you home. And he did, in fact, he reached you in a way that I could never have done. I am lion you see, and you were so desperately afraid of lions. Lions represented the negative emotions that you carried, but they can also consist of images of strength and perseverance. Both of these things are embodied in you, Susan. You showed that when you fought against the injustices that you faced in your world. Did you not see the parallels to Narnia in them? All life is a parallel, and once you had found the courage to face them, you have freed your spirit. You have also freed yourself of the physical and emotional restraints that that place represents. When you return, you will leave that place never to return again. You were never sick to begin with, but you needed to remember Narnia as way to release yourself from that prison."

"Is that why I was seeing your likeness in the wall in my room there?" She asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "Everything that you experienced with lions was present as a means of helping you remember me," he said.

"Were there really that many parallels?"

"Yes, there were things, which turned out to be vastly different in both sets of realities."

"I don't understand what you mean," she whispered.

"Well, let me put it this way: In your world, you tried to hold onto the logical adult that had been forced upon you. In Narnia, you tried to hold onto the childhood that you had lost. When I told you that you had grown up, it was hard for you because you felt as though you failed at retaining the internal child. You wanted to see the beauty that was all around you, but yet, the entire situation had become an internal struggle. Sometimes, that can be locked away never to be revealed. Today, I can see that you have no further regrets. In essence, Tumnus has found them and helped you to see that their presence no longer serves you."

"So you're really not angry with me for what I did?" She asked.

"No, you are not a traitor to Narnia that you perceive," he shook his head, the mane of golden hair flying about his head. "I have never been angry with you, not even during those days when you were angry with me."

"Aslan, how much time do I have left in Narnia?" She asked.

"You will be ready to return to your world when the time is at hand, but I have discovered that it would prove far more enjoyable for you to have this conversation now as opposed to waiting." He cocked his head to one side. "And as you can see, I have not eaten or mauled you throughout it."

Susan smiled weakly but eventually found the courage to look up at him for more than just a couple of seconds. "I really missed you, Aslan."

"I will always be with you, if but only in spirit, I am with you forever. Don't forget that Susan Pevensie. If you forget everything else, do not forget that I am a part of you," he said. "You have a life that you will return to, but you can choose to enhance that life by what you have experienced here."

She raised her head and nodded, but looked at him. "I do have a question?"

"Ask then," he said.

"My mother, she said that she understood how I felt back then, but does she really?" Susan asked.

"Better than you realize," Aslan responded with a slow nod. "It was she who told me of your struggles as well as of the pressures that you were subjected to. Helen's guilt and sadness about what she had done to you and how they do contribute to your current situation. Her words were what gave me the tools of understanding. Before Tumnus left Narnia in order to bring you home; I had to realize that 'never' is a very, very long time, and not a term to be used lightly. You are not to blame for what happened so please release that guilt, as it will no longer serve you."

"It's hard," she said as she raised her head and glanced skyward. "I missed out on so much. I could have kept that closeness with them that we shared as children. I could have tried to have been a big sister to Lucy and not just spent my life resenting her. I missed out on so much, and I know that I cannot take it back or change it."

"No, you cannot change it, but Susan, you must remember that regardless of what came of your brothers and sister, you did find something quite grand in choosing to follow this new path. Everyday people choose to diverge from one path to another in order to better understand who they are. You cannot regret your chosen paths, you can accept them as they are and live without regret of what could have or should have been." He took a deep breath. "I know that you feel guilt about the accident that took your siblings out of your reality and brought them here, but nothing you could have done will change what happened to them. You have in essence tried to reconcile their passing within yourself, but I want you to understand that you are not at fault for what happened to them. With that said, you have seen for yourself that they are happy here. They will wait for your time to come and will welcome you joyously when that day arrives. However, now is the time for you to release the guilt over what has come to pass."

"It's hard," she said weakly, her voice concealing a choked up sob. "I could have tried, I could have done something."

"No, you were not ready to do anything," he said simply. "You needed the time to cope with your own feelings separately from theirs and you expected far more from yourself than you ever did from them. The reality is that you blamed yourself for the train accident that robbed you of the chance to better understand your family. That is what landed you in the reality that Tumnus found you in."

"What should I do when I go back?" She asked.

"You must not forget this conversation, Susan, and not forget that you are loved and that no one here has ever forgotten you. One day you will return to this place and you will be ready when that time comes."

"I won't forget this time," she said as she came closer to him. As she did, she could suddenly feel that he too had stepped closer to her. She slowly reached out and touched his mane, the silky hair brushing through her fingers. Raising her head, she looked into his warm golden eyes. "I-I love you, Aslan…I always have."

The mighty lion nodded. "I know you do, and now you have found your path and it has brought you home. Go now and when you are ready, you can journey forth and live your life with no regrets."

Susan nodded and instead of leaving him, she buried her face against the feathery-like softness of his mane and began to cry in earnest. As her hot tears of release and cries of pain filled the air, a gentle peace soon replaced the years of sorrow. As her breathing filled her lungs with crisp Narnian air, she could feel herself healing and the comforting reassurance of Aslan's unconditional and loving presence enveloping her.


	41. The Final Curtain

_OK, folks, this is it, the last chapter. All that's left here is the epilogue which will be posted in the coming days. I did start a new epic story, as I had said, and this one is going to be called 'Unification', which is going to be more or less centered on Lucy's character (with slight work with Tumnus since he's my favorite to write). It is an Alternate Universe, that is it will be a story that doesn't entirely follow Mr. Lewis' chronicles, but it will have a vastly different series of events. I haven't decided when I will start posting it, I'd really like to have about 20 or so pages written before I start posting it so as to not feel any sort of pressure during the holidays, so there may be a bit of a pause between this story and that one. It just depends. _

_As I said in my previous author notes, I do appreciate the feedback. I know that I sometimes come across rude when it comes to my work, but this is my work, and when it comes to objectivity, I think that that the feedback that is most helpful are the ones that are not subjective (or based on personal opinions or interpretations). I know it seems rude to say this, but I believe that each person does have a right to his/her interpretations. This basically means that one's interpretation should not be an imposition on other writers. I am, simply put, not someone else's doormat here, nor am I here to write another's person's interpretation of the Chronicles._

_I want to give a shout out of thanks to Megastar Mog, Fledge, and Trecebo who have been just awesome with their feedback. They have commented on just about every chapter, and if not for them, this story would probably not have gone as far as it did. So thanks a bunch to you three._

_My thanks and kudos to all of you who have read and reviewed this work!_

_With that said, here's the last chapter before the epilogue._

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**Chapter 40: The Final Curtain**

After her conversation with Aslan, Susan understood that it was nearly time for her to return to her life as it was before coming to Narnia. She had found closure with Aslan, had seen her family, and was now ready to go and see Lucy in order to say her last good-bye.

The sunny Narnian morning had melted away to reveal an indescribable afternoon, which seemed to completely embody her. Instead of feeling sad, she somehow felt enlightened. Aslan had been right, she was ready to go back and try to make the best of the situation she faced. Now that she knew that she would be free, it became all too clear to her that she would succeed. After all, how could she not, when she had people like Rachel and Bob to help her? It was more clear to her now than ever before and she internally knew that there existed nothing that would keep her from living her life.

As she reached the house belonging to Lucy she smiled as she tapped on the door and waited for her sister to answer it. "Lucy?" She called out and was surprised when the door opened and Tumnus, looking rather tousled, answered it. "Is my sister here?"

"She's putting on some tea, would you like to come in?" He asked.

"I wanted to talk to her for a few minutes before I return to London," Susan responded. "I know that it seems rather strange for me to be so rushed, but I think I'm just about finished with what Aslan wanted me to do. He said that I would know when I would be ready to go back and I think that time is actually drawing near."

"And you're ready?" He asked.

"Yes, I know now that Lucy's concern was probably more for my emotional and spiritual self than for anything else. I think all of this was because she wanted me to find the courage and strength in myself to face these things. Now that I have, I think I can return without her having to worry. It is rather like Peter said, this is my final act before I return. So, I'd really like to see her before Rachel and I have to return."

Tumnus smiled. "Susan, she will be just fine until the day comes that you return to Narnia."

"Oh I know, you'll take good care of her. After all, you did take such good care of me when I needed someone to help me back there." As she spoke, she waved her hand as though indicating that other place. Taking a deep breath, she offered a weak smile and continued to speak. "It's time though, I need to do this now."

The faun nodded. "Then I'll have Lucy come see you and will leave the two of you alone."

Susan nodded as she went over to the sofa and seated herself on it, her eyes closing momentarily as Tumnus left the room. As he left, she could hear the sounds of his hooves tapping lightly against the floor. She smiled as the sounds of his steps vanished.

About five minutes after he had left the room, Lucy came out into the sitting room and could see that her sister was sitting on her sofa. "Susan," she shouted happily, the gleeful sound of her voice causing Susan to momentarily jump.

Turning around, Susan finally could see her sister. Lucy looked more lovely than she could remember, even with her hair hanging lazily down over her shoulder and the dress that hugged her slender frame wrinkled. Without further contemplating this, Susan suddenly felt Lucy's body ramming up against her in a jubilant embrace. As Susan felt her sister's embrace, she raised her arms to return the hug. "I wasn't sure when you were going to actually come here," Lucy said as the embrace loosened and she backed away.

"Aslan said I would be able to see you before I went back," Susan said, her eyes shining as she regarded her sister. "You do trust what he says, do you not?"

"Of course, I mean; why wouldn't I?" Lucy smiled as the two sisters sat down on the sofa. Several moments of silence passed before the younger of the two sisters was able to speak. "How are you?"

"Better than I've been in years," Susan said smiling.

"You can't stay in Narnia though," Lucy said.

"I know, but to be totally honest, I'm not at all sad about going back to England either. There are a few more things that I need to do, and I cannot tend to them here. I simply had not realized it until now. Now that I've finally remembered Narnia, Lucy, that should help me to finish up the tasks that need tending. What is really nice is that Narnia now represents this beautiful place that I can look forward to returning to. Regardless of what happens, I think I can handle just about anything that comes my way."

"I'm glad, I just hope that the bad and unsettling dreams will stop. I had been having them about you for many a day before Tumnus left and they were absolutely horrid," Lucy said. "Every so often during his absence they would come back."

"Did you talk to anyone about them?" Susan asked.

"No, because I figured that once you were alright, they would go away on their own," Lucy said bravely.

"Well, they shouldn't return, but if they do, talk to Aslan about it," Susan said. "He should be able to help you. Honestly, I don't think they will come back though, they seemed to only be there when things were going wrong. Today, everything is fine, so your dreams should be as well. Besides, now that everything is alright with me, it should be with you, too."

"You won't forget about Narnia again, will you?" Lucy asked.

"Well, I didn't forget everything, but I forgot a lot, and most of it was because I was too afraid to tell Mum and the others that I didn't want to be a grown up. She and I spoke last night about everything and she realized that it was a tremendous responsibility for a thirteen-year-old. I think that finding my peace with both her and Aslan will help ensure no more bad dreams for either of us. You never had to go through it, but I was quite young when I was being told to be the grown up. It was not possible, because I was still a child inside, but after awhile that child inside of me died. That was why the memories of Narnia did as well."

"I know," Lucy said. "I remembered the argument that you had with Mum about this. She kept telling you to grow up. I was this little eight-year-old kid and couldn't do anything. It was terrible."

"Yes, but I realized after everything happened that it was also the war that did this," Susan said. "Children of war grow up faster and endure more than those who are not involved. Aslan himself even had to understand that bit. He somehow was able to internalize that the only situation he had was here in Narnia, but we had to understand what was happening in two different realities. Today, you have the wonderful chance to live in a place that is embodied by freedom and peace. If I had boarded that train with you and the others, I wouldn't have made it back spiritually. I had to go through this to rediscover how special it was to me."

"Is that what Aslan told you?" Lucy asked.

"No, he didn't even elude to it, it's just something that I discovered through our dialogue. I wasn't ready to come back to Narnia when you all did because I had forgotten so much about it. I was angry and I realized that the timing would not have been right for me. Lucy, I now have a chance to make right what I did that was wrong. I'm really relieved in knowing that Aslan doesn't hate me for it. He affirmed that he never hated me at all. I just hope…"

"…You hope?" Lucy asked.

"I hope that you don't hate me for the things that I did. Lucy, you are my sister, and during the time that we were growing up, I had so much going on. I had so many things on my mind that I tried to be a second mother and not a sister to you. Narnia only added to my confusion. I wanted all of that to stop, I wanted to find the peace and stability that I had convinced myself that all adults had. But, I was mistaken."

"Are you glad that Narnia happened when it did?" Lucy asked.

"Today, I am, but back then I was perplexed much of the time. I had to sit and contemplate what Aslan was trying to convey to me. It became too difficult for me and I found myself having internal wars raging inside. Maybe that's why I kept having dreams about him, and perhaps about you as well. The truth is, without Narnia, my life had become a complex and internalized war. Now that I know that Narnia is real, and that you and the others will wait for me, I don't have any reason to be afraid of it anymore."

Lucy nodded. "You're really going to just leave again?"

"You knew from the start that I couldn't come back for good. As Aslan said, my time was not yet at hand, but Lu, you will wait for me, won't you?" Susan asked as she smiled at her younger sister.

"Sure," Lucy smiled. "But what will you do?"

"I don't know just yet, but I do have friends who will help me. Rachel and Bob are there and they've become my Spare Oom family, if you will. I have a second chance to go back. Maybe it won't be easy, but at least everything that is mine will come back to me. I also believe that with Aslan's help, something good shall come out of all of this."

"I don't know why, but I sort of figured that you would be staying longer in Narnia than just a day," Lucy said. "I just can't believe that you are already talking about going back."

"I know, but I can't stay much longer. Lu, I have a life to lead there, maybe find myself a husband who will have me and start a family. If I can get my inheritance back, then maybe I can do something with it that might help others. There are a lot of children in London without parents today. When we were sent away, we were safe, but Mum wasn't. She could have been endangered at any given moment and maybe the reason I'm thinking about this now is because I'm supposed to do something that will help others. I know I can give back something that was once taken away from me," Susan said confidently. "For the first time in years, I finally believe that I still might have a purpose for going back."

"I think the Professor's house would be the perfect place for whatever you decide," Lucy said. "Do you think you can get it back?"

"Yes, I can," Susan said. "One thing I have discovered through all of this is that Aslan doesn't just come back into one's life to make half an effort, he comes back in full force. I think that with his guidance, he will assist me in making the changes that I had once been too ashamed of trying. I also know that I cannot pretend that there is something left undone before I leave here because everything is essentially done. I thought about it yesterday when I spoke to Peter and Edmund, but I realized during the conversation with Aslan that I can't lie about it. He didn't tell me how much time I had, he said that when my time is at hand, then I will know. He was right."

"Why do you suppose he decided for us to see each other this way?" Lucy asked.

"Maybe he wanted to make sure that you and I would both be alright. It was your love that brought me home. Without it, Aslan and Tumnus would not have gone to the extremes that they did. I have always known that Tumnus loved you, Lucy, so it did not surprise me when I was able to experience the extent of love through his helping me. He sacrificed everything for you, Lu. He almost died in London after telling me about Narnia and who he really was. I don't know what would have happened if he had died there, but when I looked into his eyes, I could see absolute terror lurking there. I realized at that moment that I couldn't stand the thought of him dying and you having to experience the pain and uncertainty that went along with it. It all just seemed wrong and unjustifiable to me. He had to get back, and his love was what helped to save him."

"He said that if he had died there then he'd have come back as a man and not a faun," Lucy shuddered. "I can't imagine that, I fell in love with him as he was the day we met."

Susan nodded as she reached for her sister's hand. When she held it, she continued to speak. "When I found out what he did for me, I was surprised. I didn't want you to lose him and three hundred years is an awfully long time to not see someone."

"It had been much longer with you," Lucy said.

"I know, and it will be a great many years before I am able to come back to Narnia to stay, but Lu, I will eventually come back. Perhaps Tumnus' promise of returning after three hundred years will be the very same as the promise I am making regarding one day coming home to stay."

"You think that's why Aslan made me wait so long for Tumnus?" Lucy asked.

"It's possible, especially given that Aslan can do a great many things," Susan said. "Just don't let yourself become sad because I'm not here. I will be back, just as Tumnus came back."

Lucy nodded as the tears streamed down over her face. She took a deep breath as she once more found herself once more wrapped in the arms of her sister. As their embrace loosened, she raised her head and looked into Susan's eyes. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to go back, it's time," Susan said as she stood up. "Just wait for me, and now you know that I'm going to be alright." She started to slowly walk towards the door leading outside, but just before she reached it, Tumnus returned to the sitting room. She turned around and looked at him before speaking. "Tumnus, would you please take care of her until I return?" she asked.

In response to these words, the faun nodded as he put a comforting arm around Lucy's shoulders. Susan turned away from them and opened the door. Before stepping outside, she turned around one last time. "I love you, Lu, and I will see you again one day. Until then, just don't forget me."

Lucy nodded bravely as Susan stepped outside, the door closing behind her. Once she was gone, Lucy wiped the tears from her eyes before looking up at Tumnus. "She's going to be alright," the young woman whispered despite her sadness. "She will return home one day. That was all I really wanted."

"I know," he said smiling, but instead of remaining in his arms, he watched as Lucy ran over to the window and peered outside. Tumnus joined her and together, the two of them watched as Susan walked slowly away from the house, her retreating back disappearing in the distance.

They remained at the window staring out across the meadow as Tumnus wrapped Lucy in his arms. It was good to finally be home, he thought, and now he knew that he would never take Narnia for granted. At that moment, however, he was confidant that she would always carry it in her heart.


	42. Memories of Another Time and Place

_This is it, the final time you'll see this story at the top of this list. I hope that you all enjoyed it. I'm going to take a few weeks break before I start posting 'Unification', so hopefully by the first of December, I'll be able to start posting that one. As I said, it's not a sequel and will not follow this series of events. _

_As I wrote in my other messages I really want to thank everyone for standing by me during this story, and I hope that now it is completed, those of you who prefer to read things in their entirety will enjoy this story._

_I am rather proud of the story and where it went. I am hoping that this one gave all of you an idea of what could have happened to Susan at the end of Lewis' Narnian Chronicles. I enjoyed writing this, but chances are there won't be anymore Susan redemption stories coming from me, as I put everything I had (and then some) into this particular piece._

_I hope you will join me for 'Unification' when I get started on that, and as always: Blessings and thanks for joining me on this adventure._

* * *

**Epilogue: Memories of Another Time and Place**

It was late that afternoon when Susan reached the meadow where Lantern Waste had once been. As she walked, she felt a flood of relief washing over her. She had done what needed to be done and she was confidant that her life in London would be much better now that all of this was behind her. She could see in the distance that Rachel was standing amidst a crop of trees and was waiting for her. When she initially spotted her friend, she raised her hand and waved.

Rachel smiled and eventually returned the gesture.

When Susan reached where she was standing, she stopped and smiled. "Everything's fine now," she began. "How are things with you?"

"Great, but I think if we stay much longer I won't want to go back," Rachel said.

"I can believe it, this place has a tendency to grow on people. Right now, I'm just glad that you're here. Now that I've spoken to Lucy, we can go back."

"I know, I went to visit her while you were talking to Aslan this morning. We talked about old times and about what happened at 'Pleasantville' and then I had to leave to meet your brothers for lunch. They are both still as charming as I remember," Rachel said smiling impishly. "It's been a really nice adventure, but I guess all good things must eventually come to an end."

"Maybe not, we do still have the memories of this place," she said as she looked around where they were standing. "I can't believe we're alone right now. Aslan's not here, and neither are Tumnus and Lucy. It's seems almost melancholy, especially after the reception we got last night."

"Maybe it's like that for a reason," Rachel said as she looked around the meadow and then back at her friend. "Maybe Aslan knows that a long lengthy good-bye would only prolong the pain in going back. Are you really sure you're ready to go? Once we leave Narnia, we won't be able to get back in until our time comes."

"I really think I am. After talking to Aslan, I realized that perhaps I don't really need to stay here for an extended period of time. I can always carry Narnia back with me."

"You sound like a completely different person to the insecure one who came here only yesterday," Rachel said softly.

"Perhaps I am, but I also know that Aslan simply has that wonderful effect on people," Susan responded with laugher in her voice. "I suppose that given the fact that I have learned something rather wonderful here, I ponder if it really is surprising how much Narnia has changed me."

Rachel reached out and took Susan's hand. "Then I guess this is it. It's time for us to go back, and Aslan probably won't make any final appearances to us before we do."

"He usually pops in when we have our backs turned," Susan giggled. "Maybe we should turn around one last time and see if he's going to come."

Rachel laughed. "Alright."

The two women turned around, first their backs to the portal, and then to the meadow. Finally when they had completed a full circle, they realized that Aslan was not present. "I guess he's here," Susan said as she touched her chest and could feel her heart beating beneath her hand. "Let's go home, Rachel. Narnia will still be here when it is time for us to return."

Rachel nodded and after a final glance back in the direction of the meadow, the two women slowly walked towards the portal and stepped through it, thus bringing them out of Narnia…

**London: Five Years Later**

Susan closed the book and looked at Rachel Friedman and smiled. "This is absolutely fantastic. You actually wrote all of this down. Are you sure you want me to read this to the kids?"

Rachel nodded and smiled. "Why not? It's just the kind of story they would appreciate."

Susan hugged the notebook to her chest as she took a deep breath, the musty smell of the London air filling her nostrils. With her free hand, she brushed her hand through her now long dark brown hair.

The years had passed quickly since she had left 'Pleasantville' Psychiatric Hospital and today the two women were now inseparable. Susan knew that, no matter what would happen, she had someone with her who would not let her forget about Narnia. She and Rachel promised one another upon their return to London that they would speak of it over tea at least once a week. Along with their tea times, they both knew that Bob had a connection to it as well, even if he had not yet been there.

Susan smiled as she thought about Bob. He and Abbot Ignatius had both gone out of their way to help her. Not only did they find her representation in the legal battles she faced, they also assisted by giving her a place to stay. It was the same flat that Thomas Jenkins had used during his work in London.

Through the friendship and encouragement, which emerged from the other monks, Susan began to study theology and had grown not only in confidence, but also in intellect. She never got married, but she found a joy in living that was all her own and through it, she tried to share her experiences with others.

Three weeks after her release from the hospital, she returned to the country, where she was able to recover her rightful inheritance and file charges against those who had tried to steal it away. Today, her ex boyfriend, Charles, was serving time in prison for theft. The house, which had once belonged to Digory Kirke had been transformed into an orphanage. Susan's life had become altered and she now experienced a new joy in living.

She stared for several minutes down at the book as her friend reached for the daily newspaper. After a few moments, Rachel's voice broke into her thoughts. "Susan you're not going to believe this." As she spoke, she reached for one of two cups that were on the table in front of them.

Susan watched as Rachel took a long sip of tea. "What happened?" She asked once her friend had replaced the cup.

"Well, according to this," Rachel said as she glanced down at an article she had been reading. "Bob's now the chief doctor at 'Pleasantville', and get this, Delores Davenport is now one of his patients."

Susan looked at her friend. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," Rachel said as she lowered the paper. "Tell me truthfully, would I lie about something like that?"

"Would you swear it by the Lion?" Susan giggled.

"Yes, I would swear it by Aslan's name, but this article was not written by me even if I do work as a copy editor at the paper. Just listen to this," she began but turned her head towards the article and started to read. "'Former Doctor of Psychiatric Medicine, Delores Davenport had been placed under psychiatric evaluation by the administration team of 'Pleasantville Psychiatric Hospital'. The doctor who has taken charge of her case is the not only the head doctor, Robert McMullan, but he is also a Benedictine Monk'. Look there's even a picture of him here in his habit." Rachel turned the picture around and showed it to Susan. "He really does look happy, doesn't he?"

"He should, when he got that appointment, he was able to make enough money to help the brothers finish rebuilding their cloister," Susan said.

"Yeah, but do you know what this means?" Rachel asked with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"No, what?"

"Well, it looks as though Bob can now get even with her for all the hell she put you through," Rachel said with a smirk.

"That's not the reason it happened like that and you know it," Susan said as she threw a pillow at her friend. "Remember, Aslan's listening."

Rachel giggled. "I was only joking, Aslan," she spoke, her voice now filling the room as she retrieved a second pillow and used it as a counter assault on her friend.

"Does it say anything else?" Susan asked as she took the pillow and shoved it behind her back on the sofa.

"Not really, it just says that Bob has informed the press that Delores Davenport had control issues that stem way back to her childhood. He said that she had apparently had some really emotional traumas from her youth. It seems ironic when you stop and think about it, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does," Susan said. "I often wonder what would have happened if Aslan had appeared to people like her when I was a patient there. Do you think that maybe things would have been different for everyone involved?"

Rachel nodded. "Probably, but Susan, you've got to admit, if a talking lion were to have appeared to every person in 'Pleasantville', then someone might start thinking that the place was a regular zoo."

Susan began to laugh heartedly. "Maybe it was. Either that, or maybe it was just a grand sort of analogy for the rest of the world."

Rachel picked up her tea and smiled. "Maybe it's not as simple as that."

"Or maybe it's more simple than anything any of us could imagine," Susan said and smiled as she retrieved her cup as well. "I must admit that Narnia is a lot less complicated for me to understand than it was back then."

"Narnia was just another time; another place," Rachel said with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

"One that I don't think any of us could ever forget," Susan said. "No matter what it means to anyone, I cannot just forget about it. One day we'll both go back, and maybe Bob will be with us when we do. Then I think that will be the day that we will fully understand what it truly means."

"I think I already know what it is," Rachel said as she looked at her friend through shining eyes. "Maybe it's another place for heaven."

As these words filled the quiet room, Rachel looked at her friend, and all she received was a silent, but reciprocating, nod.

The End.

* * *

_Afterward: Just for your information, since Fledge alluded to this in the review I must add this last bit before I say a final good-bye to this particular story._

_The concept of heaven is a very spiritual one to me. It is something that people (not just Christians) have written about, embraced, and perceived in their mind's eye for centuries. The concept of what lies beyond this level of experience (or human life) can be rather deep to some (myself included). However, I must also realize that given these characters experiences, they must draw their own conclusions about what they have experienced, and I don't see either of them using my personal description for such a place in their dialogue. If I was the one speaking, then I would use the term 'spirit world', or 'the great beyond' to describe this place. Would they use such 'modern' terminology in their descriptions? I don't think so, and since I'm writing about two English ladies and not myself, it would stand to reason that they would have a different word for it than I would._

_I must also consider that for Susan to have seen her deceased brothers and sister through this concept does leave me with the conclusion that the term 'heaven' really is much more universal than allegorical. If I had used the term 'spirit world' or even 'out of body experience', then I'd have probably been judged for having tried to 'over-spiritualize' the ending of this story. So when I was writing this, I considered the time frame and concluded that the use of 'heaven' in Rachel's speech was the only term I could come up with to describe this monumental spiritual experience that these two characters shared. If you perceive it to be allegorical, then fine, but when I wrote it, that was not the intention nor was it the objective._

_Finally, I will not now or ever believe that the concept of 'heaven' (as described here) should really be limited to some sort of belief system or allegory. Nor do I believe that in writing that one simple word, was I trying to contradict something that I do feel very strongly about._

_Thanks again for reading._


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